Fourteen Times in Perim
by Quazer
Summary: When humans found themselves on a Perim that never knew humanity before, they had to learn a lesson quickly, that Perim devours and destroys the unprepared. I, however, found myself having to learn that lesson time and time again. I have died so many times, only to start all over again. Maybe this time I'll survive. (AU, rated M for violence and sexual content) Currently on break.
1. The Fourteenth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**A Note from the Author**

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Fiction? Reality? Sometimes the line between the two is blurred. By every definition, what I am about to tell you is fictional. It involves people who do not exist, in a world that does not exist. At the same time, however, the story I am about to tell you is real. These things happened, somewhere, to someone.

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_**Act I: Survival**_

**The Fourteenth Time**

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The world comes into focus as I open my eyes. There are stone buildings, large plants like palm trees, and everything that's not building or tree is sand.

The sky is a deep blue, the sun is sinking below the walls of the city. The red sunsets of home are nowhere to be found. Already the eastern sky is lighting up with stars.

This is my fourteenth time in this world. My fourth time in this particular place in this world. Naturally, I know what to do.

I turn around to the nine people who had made the journey with me, separately from me. There are eight scared children of varying ages, along with an adult, maybe thirty or forty. The adult, I'd never learned his name, was trying to keep the fear he felt from showing on his face.

I take a deep breath. Maybe I can change these first few moments. "May I have everyone's attention?"

My companions look at me. The younger children shrink away. Of course. This is their first time seeing me.

I continue, "We are no longer on Earth. This world is called Perim, and this city is Al Mipedim, home of the Mipedians. They look like lizard-people. Just do whatever they say, and everything will work out."

The lone adult in the group scoffs, "Who the f*** are you?"

I glare at him. Every single time with the language, and with kids around, too. "I'm the guy making sure you don't get us all killed." Maybe **that** will shut him up this time.

"You've got to be f***ing kidding me," the man scoffs. "Where's the camera? This is some prank show, right?"

No such luck. I choose to ignore the man. I crouch to the ground until I'm at eye-level with most of the children. "Some scary stuff is going to happen soon, so I need all of you to be brave, okay?"

Most of the children nod, but I know the rest listened to me as well.

I hear a small shriek behind me. I turn out of reflex, even though I already know what it is. A Mipedian woman steps back and covers her mouth as she sees us, dropping a basket of bread in the process. In an instant, she vanishes.

The children behind me gasp. Ah, right, I'd forgotten to tell them. "These people can turn invisible."

The man starts to shout some things not worth repeating. I don't even try to calm him down, it didn't work the other times I've tried. Instead I motion for the children to stand next to me. They hurry around me, looking around with wide eyes.

There's a crack as the shouting man suddenly pitches forward. He falls to the ground, silent. There's a little blood coming from a cut on the back of his head, but he'll be fine. A Mipedian flickers into view behind him as its invisibility wears away.

Before the Mipedian can speak, I bow my head a little. "Thank you very much. He was scaring the children."

With one sentence I have changed the Mipedian soldier's impression of us from "invaders" to "victims". He bows his head slightly as well, copying my gesture, then says, "I assume you are the leader, then?"

"In the sense that I am acting as the leader of these children until they find their parents or, failing that, persons who can care from them, then yes, I am." I'd been practicing that sentence so I wouldn't stumble over it.

I've impressed the soldier, as well as the other two invisible soldiers I know are there, though to reveal that I know of their presence would not be very smart. The soldier I **can** see says, "Very well. If the ten of you will stay here, I will bring someone to see to you."

The soldier vanishes. I know we are being watched, so I hold in my sigh. I know who the person is that will be seeing to us. Prince Mudeenu, nephew of the king and one of the more xenophobic Mipedians. While this incarnation of him is not responsible for the trouble I've had in the past, I know I have to watch my step around him.

Prince Mudeenu doesn't bother with invisibility as he marches down the road towards us. The children crowd behind me as he gets closer. I don't blame them. Mudeenu's head is covered in spiky scales and crowned with horns. His eyes are blood-red, his claws are a metallic-gray, and his default facial expression is "seriously pissed off".

He stops in front of me and lets his blue cape flow around his black armor. He stands up straight and looks down at me, trying to be intimidating. Though this is my fourth time seeing this display, I **do** find it intimidating. I'm only tall enough for my head to reach his chest.

Prince Mudeenu growls. "Who are you? Why do you trespass upon our land?"

I bow my head. "My name is Michael. We are humans, and we did not come here of our own free will."

Mudeenu snorts, but he does not argue. There is no evidence to suggest otherwise. "King Theb-sarr will want to speak with you. And only you."

"I understand," I say. I turn to the children. "Make sure you do what the nice lizard-people tell you to do. Everything's going to be all right." The children will be fine, the soldiers watching them are trustworthy.

Mudeenu turns on his heel. "Follow me," he orders with acid in his voice.

I'm quick to obey. I fall into step beside him. So far, I have survived. I'm confident I will survive longer, but I am careful not to let myself be blinded by confidence. This world teaches a harsh lesson to those who think themselves untouchable.

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**Coming next: ****The First Time**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**I decided on a rather unconventional method of storytelling here, as you probably noticed. Writing in the first-person present tense is hard, but for this story I think it needs it.**

**I would like to see what you think of this story, so please post a review! Follow if you liked it!**


	2. The First Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The First Time**

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I open my eyes, confused. My surrounding are unfamiliar. I'm standing in a large tunnel. The walls, the ground, everything looks like it's been carved from brown stone. The are torches in the walls. Not torches, I discover as I take a closer look at one. Instead of a flaming head, each "torch" has a glowing jewel embedded in it.

I hear a stifled scream, and I turn around. There are three other people here. Two women and a man. One of the women is covering her mouth as she looks around. She's probably the one who screamed.

The man asks, "What the hell is going on?" as he looks around.

The same question is on my mind, too. It doesn't matter, because before anyone can say anything we all hear an inhuman voice. "Intruders!"

We all turn to see a... something. It stands on four legs, and its two arms are pointing some kind of spear at us. Its orange skin looks smooth and hard, and its wearing what looks like leather armor, red trimmed with gold. Its face looks, well, bug-like.

I know where we are now, and I'm excited. It's Perim! The creature in front of us is a Danian, probably a mandiblore by the look of it. We must be in Mount Pillar!

The mandiblore's antennae are buzzing. My excitement fades, and now I'm nervous. If the show is at all accurate, then that's a hive call, the lights-and-sirens emergency button of the Danians. It won't be long before more Danians come.

The four of us stand very still as more mandiblores rush to us, spears and swords and various other weapons leveled at us. Not long after that, I hear heavy stomps approaching. A larger Danian appears behind the mandiblores, who part to let him pass.

I already know this creature's name. Odu-Bathax. His head has a display of frills and teeth, with two large red eyes at the center, where eyes belong, and two smaller eyes above those. He has four thick ars, two with metallic blades almost the size of his torso. His two legs each end in a pair of claws. Two long red limbs sprout from his back. Antennae? Probably. His body is covered in shiny blue armor. Or maybe it's his exoskeleton, I can't tell.

Odu-Bathax stops a few feet away from us and puts his lower pair of arms on his hips while cracking his knuckles with his upper pair of arms. "Well, well, well..." he says with a deep voice. "What do we have here?"

While the other three humans step away from the Danian, I hold my ground. I can't make myself say anything, though.

Odu-Bathax tilts his head at me. "You aren't afraid?" He lowers his arms and rolls his shoulders. The huge muscles of his chest and stomach flex and relax. He's probably not wearing armor. "You mistake idiocy for courage, strange creature."

I say something incredibly stupid. "Or maybe you just aren't as intimidating as you think you are, Odu."

I don't even see him move. One moment, Odu-Bathax is flexing his muscles, and the next, the point of a sword is pointing at my face. The Danian snarls, "Odu-**Bathax**, intruder." Then he sneers. "Maybe a few days in a cell can teach you manners."

Of course, I'm deluding myself into thinking that he can't hurt me. Out of the corner of my eye I see a mandiblore stepping closer, not quite holding his sword correctly. I dive to the side and wrench the sword from his grip, then point it at Odu-Bathax with one hand. "Maybe you could show us the way out, actually."

Odu-Bathax adjusts his grip on his sword. "Or I kill you and throw the other three in cells."

The sword is a lot heavier than I expected. I grip it with two hands as I steel myself, foolishly expecting to win. I raise the sword and swing it down.

Odu-Bathax blocks the blow effortlessly, then steps back while laughing. "Do not interfere," he commands the mandiblores. "I'll deal with this upstart."

I rush at him with a horizontal slash, but the Danian is too quick. He lazily deflects my sword with a flick of his own weapon, then chops down at me. I throw myself to the side, and his blade bites into the floor instead.

I stumble around Odu-Bathax before swinging again, this time at his back. He turns, and I barely miss severing one of the antennae sprouting from his back, instead slicing a thin line into the exoskeleton surrounding the muscles on his chest.

Odu-Bathax takes another step back, but the humor is gone from his face. He flexes his antennae, checking if they are still attached, then glances at the cut across his chest. I run towards him with sword raised above my head while Odu-Bathax's attention isn't on me.

...Or not. Odu-Bathax thrusts his weapon at me as I run forward, and the point pierces my stomach, just below the ribcage. The air rushes out of my lungs as the pain comes.  
The sword I have raised swings down, carried by gravity, and Odu-Bathax dodges it easily as he thrusts the sword forward again, pushing the blade all the way into my body. There is a snap, and suddenly I can't feel my legs. Odu-Bathax pulls his sword out, and I crumble to the ground.

It hurts. Oh dear god it hurts. I can't move it hurts so much. I can hear Odu-Bathax's voice, but I can't process the words. A mandiblore's leg brushes against me, and the pain intensifies. And then the pain gradually fades away, along with my hearing and vision...

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**Coming next: ****The Mipedian King**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**I can see you scratching you head in confusion. Well, okay, I can't, but I'm imagining it.**

**Follow and review!**


	3. The Mipedian King

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Mipedian King**

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_**Time 14:**_

The Mipedian palace is absolutely breathtaking. I've seen it many times before, but I don't have to pretend to be in awe. The walls are made of white marble, the floor a pattern of yellow and silver, and there are thick black pillars with intricate golden designs.

Prince Mudeenu glances down at me and smirks. "Impressed?"

I nod without saying anything. I don't want to say the wrong thing and give the Mipedian any more reason not to like me than he will have soon.

The doors to the throne room are made of polished wood. Wood itself is hard to come by for the Mipedians, so it's actually a symbol of wealth. The doors appear to open by themselves, though I know that a pair of invisible servants is the reason for it. Mudeenu walks in with his head held high. I walk behind him, trying my best not to look dangerous.

King Theb-sarr is sitting on his throne. He has this mighty presence about his where you know he's there before you see him. His scales are sapphire blue, his horns are so dark a blue that they're almost black, and his face looks more dragon than lizard. He's not in armor, but rather in elaborate white clothes, kind of like how the ancient Egyptian pharaohs back on Earth dressed. However, I doubt an Egyptian looked quite like Theb-sarr, even ignoring the whole species difference. King Theb-sarr would put any human bodybuilder to shame!

Prince Mudeenu stops, and I almost run into his back. The Mipedian prince kneels and says, "King Theb-sarr, this is one of the intruders you were informed of."

I almost take too long to remember to bow. I'll have to be careful, I'm out of practice. "Your Majesty," I say quickly.

Theb-sarr did something with his mouth that I recognize as a grin. "I see, Mudeenu. Yes, he does certainly look like enough of a problem to interrupt my duties." He chuckles in a surprisingly warm tone.

If Mipedians were capable of blushing, Mudeenu would have been doing so now. He bows again. "Yes... I... may have overreacted a little when I sent a messenger for you. Still, I believe this is important."

I've heard the next words from Theb-sarr enough that I could say then along with him if I wanted. I don't though. It would raise too much suspicion.

Theb-sarr leans forward and clicks his tongue. "He looks more like a lost soul than an intruder to me." Then directly to me, he asks, "What is your name, and where do you hail from?"

I take a breath before answering. "My name is Michael. I and the rest of my kind are not from Perim, but another world we call Earth."

Mudeenu snorts, but Theb-sarr looks intrigued. "Really? Another world entirely?"

I nod. "No matter how far in any direction you walked, swan, or flew, you wouldn't reach it. I have no idea how we ended up in your world, and I have even less idea if we can even return."

Mudeenu turns on me. "You certainly don't **sound** lost and confused."

I glare at him. A mistake, but I'll have to live with it. "Well, I'm not going to do my people any good by acting lost and scared, am I?"

Theb-sarr tilts his head. "Your people?"

Oops. "I mean, if I've been brought before you, your Majesty, then obviously I'm representing my entire species to you."

Theb-sarr leaned back in his seat and stared at me for a long time. Mudeenu is looking at him, waiting for his response. I can't keep myself from feeling uneasy. I **shouldn't** be uneasy, but really, standing in front of a king?

Theb-sarr finally grins. "Well, if your kind can find a place among us, then you are welcome here."

Mudeenu almost explodes in outrage. I don't hear what he says next clearly. Theb-sarr must have given some sort of signal, because a servant appears near me and quickly escorts me out of the throne room. Just like the other times.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel safer. Now for the next challenge. Surviving the night.

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**Coming next: ****The Second Time**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Does the chaptering method I've chosen work?**

**Follow and review!**


	4. The Second Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Second Time**

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I open my eyes, and there's sand everywhere. Sand in the road, on buildings, on plants that look like palm trees. Half of the sky has a blue glow, while the other is deep violet and shining with stars.

I'm confused. Is this what I think it is? It feels kind of like last time. Definitely not the same place, though.

I look around. There's an adult man and, I take a moment to count, eight children near me, all of them looking confused. Maybe I should say something to them.

I take too long to decide, and the man shouts, "What the **f***** just happened?"

I cringe. The man has language issues, and some of the kids can't be more eight years old. "Maybe we shouldn't talk so loud," I say quietly. If this place is what I think it is, then somebody could be standing right next to us, listening.

"Shut the f*** up," the man snaps at me. "Don't pretend you know what's going on."

Before I can say that I'm pretty sure I know more about what's going on than he does, I hear a small shriek behind me. I turn in time to see what appears to be a reptilian woman drop a basket and cover her mouth. In an instant the lizard-person vanishes, literally disappearing on the spot, leaving behind the spilled basket.

The foul-mouthed man swears loudly, "What the f*** was **that**?!"

I find myself taking the man less seriously with everything he says. At least I know where we are now. "**That** was a Mipedian, and she's probably looking for guards."

The man stares at me as if **I** was the idiot. "Mipedian? What the-?"

I cut him off, "Lizard people from a world called Perim." I'm not sure I'm doing a good job explaining. "Which is where we are, by the way."

The man has lost patience with me. He marches away from me and the children, towards the fallen basket, and bellows, "I don't care what you f***ing lizards are! Or is this some prank? Well it's not f***ing **funny**!"

There's a crack, and the man suddenly collapses to the ground. The air behind him flickers as a Mipedian wielding a spear appears there. The Mipedian turns to face me, and there's what I assume suspicion in his expression.

I raise my hands in front of me, palms open. "...Hi."

The Mipedian quickly closes the distance between us and thrusts his spear towards my face, the point stopping maybe an inch from my nose. I flinch away, and the kids behind me squeal in fright. The soldier narrows his eyes and growls, "Who are you?"

I don't immediately answer, I'm too busy staring at the spear pointing between my eyes. When my breath stops catching in my throat, I stutter, "M-Michael. My name is Michael."

I hear the kids behind me shriek, and a voice behind me growls, "And who are you?"

I turn my head to see another soldier aiming a spear at the group. "They're kids!" I almost shout. "Don't hurt them!"

I see the spear waver, and the soldier holding it suddenly looks uncomfortable. He eventually raises the weapon. I breathe a sigh of relief as turn back to face the soldier in front of me. Who is still pointing a spear at me. Oh, right.

Before anything else can be said, I hear a voice approaching. "Excellent job keeping control of the intruders, soldier." I see the voice's owner strutting closer.

It's Prince Mudeenu! He's one of my favorite creatures from the game! Holy crap! This is the best day ever!

Prince Mudeenu draws a sword and walks around me. "Start walking. Slowly." I feel the point of the weapon press against my back.

Scratch that. This day is far from the best day ever.

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By the grace of the Mipedian king, Theb-sarr, I'm **not** spending my first night in the Mipedim Oasis in a prison cell. I don't even have a face to attach to the name Theb-sarr, but I feel very grateful to him. Come to think of it, Theb-sarr it the tribe leader I know the least about. Maxxor, Chaor, Illexia, they all have cards in the game, and they've all appeared in the show. Theb-sarr's an absolute mystery.

I'm lying down in a bed in one of the guest rooms of the palace. This place is jaw-droppingly beautiful. I've spent the last several minutes just staring at the designs in the ceiling. The bed itself is more comfortable than anything else I can remember. And this is a **guest** room!

While I'm admiring the place, I hear the door open and close. It's probably a servant. I remember Prince Mudeenu gritting his teeth and saying, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll send a servant to take care of you." It was like the words put a bad taste in his mouth.

I hear a fluttering sound, and I turn my head to see the curtains being closed. That will take some getting used to, seeing invisible people go about doing things. I grin as I imagine the amazing haunted houses Mipedian would be able to pull off if they used their invisibility that way.

The pillow beside me lifts up, and I can see claw indentations as the Mipedian holding it began to fluff it. "The pillows I fine," I say, "I fluffed them already."

The pillow doesn't drop back down, instead moving around the bed, flapping around as whoever was holding shook it. It was a little comical, really. Ah well, I guess if he insists on-

The pillow flies toward my face, and suddenly I'm pressed into the bed. I can't see, can't breath, can't speak. He's smothering me! I flail around my arms and legs, trying to scream, trying to shake off my assailant. The pillow presses harder into my face. I grab for the Mipedian's hands, trying to pull them off. He's too strong. I punch at the air, and I feel my fists connect with scales, but the pillow doesn't budge.

My head feels fuzzy. I lift my legs and plant my feet against my attack's chest. I can't push hard enough. I can feel the Mipedian's muscles shake as he presses harder.

My ears are ringing. I can't tell where my arms or legs are. I can't feel the pillow against my face. I can only try to breathe, but I can't make my lungs fill...

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**Coming next: ****The Palace Guards**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	5. The Palace Guard

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Palace Guards**

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_**Time 14:**_

The Mipedian servant has an expression on his face that I can only describe as a blend of confusion, amusement, and irritation. In a voice that can't quite decide which of those emotions to express, he says, "Forgive my boldness in asking, for it really isn't my place to question our guests' habits, but **why** exactly are you under the bed?"

It's morning in Al Mipedim, and I am indeed under the bed. I spent the whole night there just in case an assassin came in during the night. I really could have come up with a better idea, but it seems that I wasn't in any danger this time.

I stretch as best as I can while under the bed and yawn loudly. "I have a habit of sleeping under the bed when I'm scared," I say while crafting my face into an embarrassed expression. "It makes me feel safe."

"Scared, sir?" The servant doesn't look like he believes me.

I raise my eyebrows at the Mipedian. "Imagine you suddenly found yourself in, say, the Underworld, with no way to defend yourself."

I see the Mipedian shudder. "Ah." He stands up, and I can only see his feet now. "In any case, a place has been set for you in the soldiers' mess hall. I will escort you when you are prepared."

I roll out from under the bed and stand up, fully dressed. "I'm ready now."

The servant sighs in exasperation and gestures to the door. "Right this way."

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The mess hall looks a lot like an elementary school cafeteria back on Earth, except the benches and tables are made of stone, and instead of children there are adult lizard people. There's also quite a lot more meat being served, and there are plant fibers strewn on the ground to make cleaning up spills easier.

In retrospect, it's not that much like a cafeteria at all.

There's a table with prepared meal settings. There's a platter with a very large cut of meat, a yellowish vegetable, and a bowl of gruel. I grab it and walk toward the tables, scanning the crowd for faces I might recognize.

My presence has not gone unnoticed. I'm probably the first human to enter the soldiers' mess hall, so I'm something of a new sight, even if who knows how many humans appeared in their city yesterday. While I walk down the hall looking around, the sounds of eating and conversation gradually die down. Maybe half of the Mipedians are staring at me, while the other half are trying **not** to stare.

I see a large Mipedian with red scales and distinctive horns. Perfect. I walk over to him and place my platter next to his. The Mipedian stops chewing as I sit myself down.

I look at the red Mipedian to my left, and a spiky yellow Mipedian to my right. "Good morning. My name is Michael."

The red Mipedian chews a couple times and swallows. "Maliph," he says in a thick voice.

"Malvadine," the yellow Mipedian mutters with a slight hiss soon afterwards.

This is a surprise. I'd been searching for Maliph quite deliberately, but Malvadine also being here? This turned out better than I thought. I pick up the yellow vegetable. "What's this?" I ask in what I hope is an ignorant tone.

Malvadine grins a little. "It's the inside of a cactus plant," he says, watching me closely.

I deliberately push my lower jaw forward, as if contemplating what Malvadine said. Of course, I know how it tastes already. At least I won't have to act when I eat it. I stick a large chunk of the cactus into my mouth and take a bite.

The cactus juice is so bitter that I gag. "Agh!" I spit the bite out and start pouring gruel into my mouth to mask the taste.

Malvadine howls with laughter, and Maliph covers the front of his muzzle with one hand and snorts. Many other Mipedians laugh at my antics as well.

I scrape the top of my tongue against my upper teeth. It's going to get a long time to get used to that taste again. "I can't feel my tongue," I mutter.

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"...and of course the moment you tell someone not to do something, you know what's going to happen," Maliph tells me with a wide grin.

I press my palm to my face. "He sticks his tongue into the open end of the Cyclance." I snicker. "Seems he was in for a shock."

Another Mipedian chimes in, "I'm sure the experience was electrifying!" That earned a healthy mix of laughter and groans from the crowd.

It been a few minutes, and Maliph, Malvadine and I are already acting like good friends. Several of the soldiers are already referring to us as "Maliph, Michael, Malvadine", with even a little bit of a rhythm to the words.

After a while a loud voice calls, "All right, breakfast is over! Everyone to the bathhouses!"

Maliph claps me on the shoulder as he stands. "Maybe I'll see you around afterwords. I have a rare day off today."

Malvadine makes a show of plugging his nose. "You know, you could use a trip to the bathhouse yourself."

I give my armpit a sniff. Whew, I **reek!**

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Water is a precious resource. Al Mipedim, the desert that the city is named after, gets very little rain even in the wet season. Therefore what water the Mipedians have is not wasted on things like washing. A Mipedian bathhouse is instead much like a sauna, at least in that there are heated rooms in it. In place of water, a perfumed oil is used.

The Mipedians first let their bodies heat up in the rooms. Then, they cover their bodies with the oil, let it sit for a while, then scrape it off with a paddle into little bowls. The oil is then cleaned so it can be used again. It's a lot less disgusting than it sounds, and it works perfectly fine for humans too. Ancient Greeks or Romans did something kind of similar to this if I recall correctly.

Maliph needs help getting oil on his back, so I help him out. Then Maliph gets my back. "Most other creatures find this incredibly uncomfortable, bathing with Mipedians" he comments. "You don't seem to be."

I can't very well tell Maliph that this is actually my twentieth time or so in a Mipedian bathhouse. Instead I say, "Eh, we're all guys here. We're not seeing anything we don't see every time we drop our pants. Or lift our loincloths or whatever."

"That's... not what I meant," Maliph stammers while Malvadine bursts out laughing from across the room. Then Maliph smirks. "That's actually a good point, I'll have to remember that one."

I laugh as well. This is good, I've got something of a safety net now. Maliph and Malvadine are two of the palace guards, and befriending them greatly increases my chances for survival. Always make sure that the people who are allowed to kill you like you enough not to.

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**Up next: ****The Third Time**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Special Note: I am looking for a picture to represent Fourteen Times in Perim. If you know of a good picture or are willing to make one, please let me know.  
**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	6. The Third Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Third Time**

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Once is luck. Twice is coincidence. Now I'll see if it happens thrice.

I'm ready this time, I think. If I'm in Perim again, I'm guessing that I'll end up in a new place this time, but just in case I've tried to plan for any tribe I might come across.

If I end up back at Mount Pillar, the plan to last longer is simple. **Don't challenge Odu-Bathax!** I don't know **what** I was thinking last time I was there. A young adult human with no experience in real combat versus a Danian warrior who'd probably been training his whole life? Yeah, I was being a complete idiot there.

If I find myself in the desert again, it's going to be a bit more complicated. I don't know who killed me then. Did Prince Mudeenu have a double meaning in mind when he told me a servant would take care of me? Did the king decide I was dangerous and send someone himself? Or did one of I don't know **how** many Mipedians take matters into their own hands? The only plan I can come up with is to look as harmless as possible.

What I consider more likely is that I end up in either the Overworld or the Underworld. It makes more sense, when I ignore how little sense the whole thing makes period.

The Overworld would probably be easiest. Of all the creatures from the game and show I can remember, I can probably count the naturally hostile ones on one hand. A lot of Overworlders look similar to humans as well, so fitting in probably won't be hard either.

Of course, the Underworld is also a possibility. My best bet in **that** case is probably to hide somewhere and wait for all the chaos to die down. The only friendly, or at least passive, Underworlder I can think of is H'earring. There's probably more, but they're a **very** small minority.

-[]-[]-[]-

I open my eyes, and my heart is pounding. Where am I this time? A banner on the wall answers my question. It's red, and printed on it is a circle with a dot inside it and a line under it. I'm in the Underworld.

I sigh. Hiding it is. At least I don't see anyone around. I don't even hear any gasps that might sound like they're coming from humans, which is a plus. It would be hard to hide a lot of people. I look around.

Oh.

Oh **crap.**

I'm not standing in some random street in Underworld City. I'm standing in **the freaking throne room of the palace!**

There are three creatures in here. One is standing in front of the throne, turned around and looking at me in shock. A blue lizard with spikes. Agitos. Another is standing beside the throne. A demoness, yellow skin, bat-wings sprouting from her back, and an equally astonished expression. Takinom.

On the throne itself is the ruler of the Underworld. He's maybe twice the height of the other two, or at least it looks that way to me right now. He has brick red skin, absolutely ripped with muscle. His head is some unholy mixture of demon and dragon, with sharp teeth that show even when his mouth is closed and immense horns curving around the crown of his head. On his arms are a pair of spiked... things, I don't even know what they're called. On his feet are a pair of metal boots, and the only other piece of clothing he's wearing is a short loincloth made of fur, held in place by some kind of metal belt. It's the Overlord of the Underworld, Chaor. He looks furious.

I feel my arms and legs go numb. Just moments after I arrive, and I'm face to face with one of the most feared creatures in Perim. I didn't plan for this. How **could** I have planned for this?

As I stand there like a slack-jawed moron, Chaor stands up off his throne. His right arm lights up as flames wreath it. His arm, chest, and stomach muscles flew and ripple as he twists his body, preparing to throw. By the time I realize what's going on, it's too late.

The wave of fire hits me, knocking me off my feet. Flames latch on cloth and flesh and begin to burn. I'm screaming, rolling on the ground, trying to put the fire out, but it clings like napalm, sticking to and spreading over what it touches..

Soon the pain leaves, replaced by a dull ache. I'm still on fire, but the nerves that sense pain have been destroyed, burned away. My body is starting to curl in on itself, muscles charring and cooking in the heat.

I can't see, my eyes are probably gone. I can't hear, my eardrums probably melted. I can barely think, and the stray thoughts become fuzzier and farther away...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Dew Farm**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Holy ****_crap._**** Does this chapter warrant the story its ****M**** rating yet? If so, I'll update the summary.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	7. The Dew Farm

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Dew Farm  
**

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_**Time 14:**_

Malvadine heads to his post after we're all done at the bathhouse, while I follow Maliph as he begins his day off, mostly because a hostile Mipedians are significantly less likely to attack me while I'm with a palace guard. At least, I hope so. Suddenly I'm nervous. Am I underestimating the respect the locals have for the guards?

Maliph does not immediately head outside like I had assumed, instead heading to a small room with a window that led to another room rather than to the outside. I've never been in this room, so I'm perplexed until Maliph walks to the window and speaks.

"Maliph, fifty palms," Maliph says curtly as he taps some kind of ceramic tile on the window's counter.

The Mipedian on the other side of the window takes the tile from Maliph, examines it, and nods. He vanishes for a moment, then returns and places several gold coins on the counter, which Maliph counts before sweeping them into a pouch at his belt.

It's a **bank!** I just watched a Mipedian make a withdrawal from a bank account using a ceramic bank card! Why is this so funny? I've never laughed while watching a bank transaction back on Earth. Maybe because it's such an ordinary thing in such a fantastic place.

As I follow Maliph out of the bank, my stomach suddenly drops. Money. I'd completely forgotten about money. My past thirteen times here in Perim have either killed me too fast for me to even **begin** thinking about money or have been situations where money wasn't an issue, but they way I've been trying to mold events this time has landed me effectively on my own, dead broke, in the middle of a city in the desert.

Crap. I did not plan this out well.

I tumble ideas in my head as I follow Maliph out of the palace, but I can't find anything. I simply know too little about the actual city of Al Mipedim. I find myself biting my lower lip, a habit I have when it takes too long for me to solve a problem.

Maliph's tail swings in front of my vision as I stare at the ground, and suddenly I feel incredibly stupid. "Maliph," I ask in as casual a voice I can manage, "where can I find a job here?"

Maliph slows a bit as he thinks. "Well, the dew farm always needs help."

-[]-[]-[]-

After several minutes of getting lost and having to ask for directions, I finally reach the Mipedim Oasis dew farm. The place is dotted with what look like covered wells, except they're shallow and presently empty. I get enough of a look at one to have a guess as to how they work. The inside of the dome above the well feels cool and is covered in little ridges, a perfect place for water vapor to collect and condense as air passes under it. If I remember the card art for the Mipedian Dew Farm correctly, one of these wells can collect a **ton** of water from the air. Makes sense, this city **was** built around an oasis, so there would be a lot of water in the air.

Actually, come to think of it, why isn't there water in the wells right now? The sun's up and probably evaporating said oasis right now.

Focus, Michael. Find work first, **then** you can contemplate the mystery of the empty wells.

I make my way to the lone set of structures on the farm that **aren't** wells, a pair of shacks with only three walls and a roof each. One is packed with what looks like clay water vessels, and the other is surrounded by a crowd of humans. I guess I'm not the only one looking for work here.

I mingle with the crowd. A good number of them are adults, but I see a few teenagers here as well. Many people look scared, but a few look like they're having the time of their lives. Probably fellow fans of Chaotic, to which a thing like sudden transportation to Perim was probably a dream come true. Nobody's talking to anyone, though. We're all pretty much complete strangers to each other.

It's not long before a large Mipedian pushes his way through the crowd and stands inside the shack. He clears his throat, unnecessary considering everyone was already paying attention to him, and begins to speak. "I have been informed that you Humans might be here for a while, and that you are likely going to have to find employment among us."

The Mipedian said the word "human" as if it were the name of a tribe. The crowd around me also seems to have caught the tone he used. A man beside me pulls a face, as if he thought that tone was meant to be condescending.

The Mipedian clears his throat again. "If you're going to work in the dew farm, you must be prepared to spend hours under the hot sun, carrying heavy objects quickly and with care! I don't know what the climate was like where you came from, but this is a **desert!** We need to collect and conserve as much water as possible, as fast as possible! Every drop wasted is a creature that goes with less than he needs to survive, so if you aren't prepared to do your absolute best, then in the name of King Theb-sarr **look for a different job!**"

Well, **that** scared a number of people away. There are about ten of us left now. I can see some Mipedians already gathering water vessels from the other shack. The Mipedian talking to us points at the shack, and the others look as well.

The Mipedian clears his throat a third time. Odd. "There are two groups. One group fills these vessels with water from the wells, while the other takes empty vessels to the creatures at the wells and brings the full vessels back here. You will be part of the second group. I don't want to risk one of you dropping one in a well and wasting everyone's time."

The Mipedian pauses. Everyone stands still, waiting for him to continue. Finally he says, "Well? You know what your job is. The wells are going to collect water any moment now! Get going!"

-[]-[]-[]-

The day just drags on and on...

I'm so glad I went to the bathhouse in the morning. That cleaning oil must act like some kind of sunscreen, I'm one of only two humans not red as a lobster.

I'm so tired after what feels like hours of running back and forth. These water jugs are **heavy** when they're full, I can only carry one at a time. I see Mipedian runners carrying two and sometimes three!

I'm about ready to collapse when a Mipedian calls out, "All right, shift's done! First shift, finish whatever you're doing this moment and come in for your pay. Second shift, be ready to take over the **moment** the creature you're switching with is finished."

I struggle the last jug of water into the shack, then head for the other shack. There's around twenty humans heading to the shack I'm leaving. I guess it was a braver group than mine.

Somebody's made it to the shack before me. He looks even redder in the face than he really should be. Maybe because he's angry. "If you're going to pay me as little as twenty 'palms' for the work I did, you should at least **give** me twenty, not **four!**"

The Mipedian has his eyes closed and pressing his palm to his forehead. "I **gave** you twenty palms-"

The man snaps, "I see **four** coins here! **Not** twenty!"

I look over the man's shoulder at the table with the coins. There are indeed four coins. I immediately notice what the man in front of me missed, and I'm so exhausted and cranky that I decide to be an absolute butt about it. "Hey, could you just make the human happy and give him twenty of the one-palm coins?"

The man stumbles over his anger and looks at me in confusion. The Mipedian looks pleased that one of the humans has a brain.

I point at the coins. "These two are larger than the other two, and they have heptagons printed in them. This coin is the smallest of the four, and it has a cross printed on it. The medium-sized coin has a squared printed on it." I ask the Mipedian, "May I see a one-palm coin?"

The Mipedian takes one out of a pouch, the smallest of them all. "There," I point at it, "just a line. You really are being paid twenty palms. Two sevens, a four, and a two."

"That's the dumbest coin system in the world," the man scoffs as he picks up the coins.

"Actually, with this system, you'll only ever need to give two coins at most in change," I start to say, but the man flips me off as he walks away.

The Mipedian watches the man leave for a while, then hands me four of the seven-palm coins.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Fourth Time  
**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**I love math. :)**

**Still looking for a good picture for the story. Contact me if you know of/can make one.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	8. The Fourth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Fourth Time  
**

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I'm going to end up in the Overworld this time, I just know it. It wouldn't make any sense if I didn't. Why go to three of the four tribes of Perim and then just stop?

I open my eyes, and I immediately feel a cool breeze and see a blue sunset. I knew it. The Overworld. Judging by the pattern of the other three times, most likely in Kiru City. I stare at the sky as I smile. I'm going to make this time **work.**

I hear a scream. Well, the chaos begins. I look in the direction of the scream.

A woman is clinging to the side of a cliff, her hands shaking with the effort of keeping her up. I stare in shock, and the woman screams again as she slips further down. My body finally stops freezing up, and I lunge for the woman.

I'm not fast enough. The woman slips off the edge and falls. I'm on my hands and knees, looking over the cliff, watching her fall. The woman's figure suddenly stops getting smaller as she hits the ground several hundred feet away.

My mind is blank. I just watched someone die, right in front of me. I was **moments** away from catching her, but she'd slipped through my fingers.

I'm not technically **in** Kiru City. More like **on top** of it. I raise my head and numbly look around. Practically every building has a human on its rooftop like I am.

I scramble away from the edge and curl in a ball. Forget being run through with a sword. Forget smothering. Forget being set on freaking fire. I have a deep, debilitating, completely irrational fear of heights. I've never actually fallen more than a couple feet before, but heights are my enemy and they always will be.

-[]-[]-[]-

Time passes. The sky is completely dark now, except for the stars and moon. I hear chatter from the streets and the rooftops. I don't understand any words being said, but I can safely assume the Overworlders have long since discovered us. They're probably trying to reach those of us stranded on rooftops.

I feel the wind change slightly, and then there's the sound of claws touching down on stone. I hear a screechy voice say, "Found another one, top of the palace."

I turn my head so I can see the speaker. I can't tell by star and moonlight alone, but the creature looks like a some kind of bird. In his hand is some kind of crystal.

A deep male voice sounds from the crystal, "Check for weapons, then bring him down."

The bird-creature slips the crystal into some kind of belt at his waist and steps closer. He crouches over me and says, "If you make any sudden moves, I have to assume you're attacking me."

I croak out, "I understand." The creature is close enough for me to recognize now. It's the green-clad bird-man Frafdo.

Frafdo pats me down. It's uncomfortable. **Very** uncomfortable. After a while I half expect him to try to feel me up, but thankfully he does nothing of the sort. "Unarmed," Frafdo says into the crystal before lifting me in his arms.

Frafdo floats off the ground, completely disregarding gravity, just like in the show. It's absolutely terrifying. I wrap my arms around Frafdo's chest and clench my eyes shut.

"Ow," I hear Frafdo say in a pained voice.

I understand Frafdo's pain, my arms are probably like an anaconda right now. Frafdo's flight isn't hampered, though, and I feel the world turn in all sorts of impossible directions before it stops.

Nothing happens for a couple seconds. Then I hear Frafdo mutter, "You can let go now." I can hear him struggle for breath.

I open my eyes. I'm safely on the ground. I let go of Frafdo and collapse to the ground.

-[]-[]-[]-

I probably wasn't out very long, but I certainly missed **something** in that time. All I know is that when I open my eyes and stand up, there's a human pointing a pyroblaster at a group of creatures, and they're pointing weapons back at him.

The human looks terrified. "I don't want to hurt anybody! I just want to go home!"

"Let me speak with the creature," a deep voice says, the same voice that voice came from Frafdo's crystal. The soldiers part, and a tall green humanoid wearing red clothing steps into view.

Yeah, as if I'd go to Kiru City and somehow **not** run into Maxxor. I'm surprised I didn't appear in his freaking throne room.

Maxxor talks firmly to the man, "Lower the weapon. We don't mean to harm you."

"Bulls***," the man mutters. "You aliens probably want to stick probes into all sorts of places that thing don't belong. Just point me in the direction of the teleport pod to Earth, or something."

Maxxor clearly thinks the man has lost his marbles. "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Simply set the weapon down."

The man points the pyroblaster at Maxxor. "Let me go or I use the phaser on you."

I rush to the man and try to pull him back. "Just do what he-!"

Wrong move.

The man's hand grips the trigger in reflex when I yank him back, and the pyroblaster launches a fireball into the face of the ruler of the Overworld.

I see the collision in slow motion. My heart stops. I just indirectly shot Maxxor in the face.

I don't see the retaliatory burst of weapon fire from the Overworld soldiers, neither do I feel it when the attacks hit. One moment I'm staring at Maxxor fall backwards, and the next moment, darkness...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Water and the Whip****  
**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**It's never a good idea to startle the guy holding a gun.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	9. The Water and the Whip

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Water and the Whip**

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_**Time 14:**_

It's been seven days since the sudden appearance of humans in Perim.

I have a little shack now. It took a lot of work, and I had to put off buying things that I would have liked to buy, but now I have a house. Even if there's only one room, the toilet is a bucket in the corner, and my bed is a thin mattress lying on the ground. Heck, there isn't even a door, just an empty doorway. Still, it's **mine.** That's something to be proud of.

The shirt that traveled with me to Perim gave up the ghost a couple days after I started working at the dew farm. I haven't gotten around to buying a replacement shirt yet, and I don't think I will. None of the other men have.

I'm faster at running water vessels now. I'm still only carrying one at a time, but I can almost **run** now. In fact, **every human** who began working at the dew farm six days ago is working much faster now, and our pay is reflecting that.

This particular day, towards the middle of the morning shift, I see what looks like two Mipedians men harassing a human man near the water collection shack. My immediate reaction is to run over, but I slow myself down as I get closer. Maybe there's more going on here than I think I see.

"What's going on?" I ask as I pass the three.

The Mipedians glance at me. It's the foreman and one of the runners. "Back to work," the foreman growls, "we're wasting enough time as it is."

The man cries out, "They're trying to beat me up!"

I raise an eyebrow. While the Mipedians**are** being aggressive, they certainly don't look like they've touched the guy. I ask the foreman, "What did he do?"

The foreman raises what would be an eyebrow if he had any. "He stole water."

"I didn't steal anything!" the man says loudly with a scowl.

"One moment." I walk over to the shack and put down the water jug I was holding. There's a jug in the water corner with its lid at a funny angle. I grab the jug by the neck and try to lift it a little. It feels a lot lighter than it should.

Before I can say anything, the man snaps, "That one simply didn't get filled all the way. They're accusing **me** of drinking from it."

"I don't know," I say. "Stealing water's a big thing to accuse someone of here."

The man looks smug. I guess he doesn't know that I'm not saying that to get him off the hook. "See, he said it so himself. You guys don't want to admit that a lizard-man screwed up."

Yeah, this guy's guilty as hell.

The foreman bares his teeth, but I'm quick to cut in. "I didn't actually say anything like that. What I'm trying to say is that these sorts of accusations probably aren't made unless there's overwhelming evidence."

The accused man looks confused. "But, wait, I thought you-"

I'm wasting enough time as it is. Time to speed things up so I can get back to work. "Stealing water's **such** a serious issue that I bet they hold full investigations into it if the accused denies. Of course, it would be a quick investigation, what with all the different ways creatures here have of looking into the past."

"Looking into the past?" the man says shakily.

I pick up a pair of empty jugs and start to walk back. "Of course, making people waste time like that probably means a harsher sentence, like maybe losing a hand. You know, like what almost happened to Jasmine in the Disney version of Aladdin?" I shrug. "But then again, if you really think you can fool supernatural crime-investigation techniques, you can continue to make life harder than it needs to be. I mean, you **could** fess up and simply pay for the water. I'd rather do that than have a hand cut off."

The man is white as a sheet, rubbing his wrist as if it already hurts. The foreman and the other Mipedian are staring at me in surprise.

I'm having a little too much fun with this. I chuckle a little and call back, "Of course, since you know for certain that you didn't steal any water, you should be completely safe! You don't have to worry at all about having body parts and such being chopped off!"

I run over to the well I was supposed to be at. The Mipedian there has almost filled all the vessels he had. I quickly lay the two I brought next to him and hurry back to the shack with two of the full ones. Holy **crap** these are heavy!

The foreman and the thief are in the other shack. Looks like the man is paying for the water he took. I turn my attention back to my work, placing the vessels I brought where they go and grabbing a couple more empty ones.

There's a cracking sound, and then the sound of a human screaming. They're coming from the other shack. I rush over, my heart pounding.

The thief is bent over and breathing hard. There's a reddening welt going across his back. The foreman rolls up a whip and attaches it to his belt. "And finally, we're keeping a portion of your pay until the rest of your fine has been covered. I **highly** advise you not to try this again."

I head back to the well. That part's not any of my business.

For the rest of the shift I notice that, every time I'm near the shacks, the foreman is watching me. It's like he's studying me. It's a little unnerving.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Fifth Time****  
**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Warning: The stunt pulled in this chapter only works in Perim. Threatening people with supernatural investigation skills is only going to get you laughed at. Unless you're Pheonix Wright. Or Apollo Justice. Or any other number of people with supernatural investigating powers.  
**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	10. The Fifth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

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**The Fifth Time**

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I open my eyes, confused. I'm standing in a large tunnel. The walls, the ground, everything looks like it's been carved from brown stone. The are metal rods sticking out of the walls, and each rod has a glowing jewel embedded in it.

I hear a stifled scream, and I turn around. There are three other people here. Two women and a man. One of the women is covering her mouth as she looks around.

The man asks, "What the hell is going on?" as he looks around.

Shortly afterwards, we hear an inhuman voice shout, "Intruders!"

This is all incredibly familiar...

-[]-[]-[]-

The four of us humans stand very still while the Danians point their swords, spears, and other weapons at us. The other three stare down the tunnel nervously when heavy footfalls sound from there. I take a slow, deep breath. Well, time to try again.

A larger Danian appears behind the mandiblores, who part to let him pass. Odu-Bathax stops a few feet away from us and puts his lower pair of arms on his hips while cracking his knuckles with his upper pair of arms. "Well well well..." he says with a deep voice. "What do we have here?"

The other three back away. I make a snap decision and copy them.

Odu-Bathax's head lifts slightly as he makes a deep-chested laugh. "Come now, I want to hear you speak. I want to know how you managed to penetrate this deep into Mount Pillar without anyone noticing."

The other three are too intimidated to speak. I guess I have to speak again, but how to do this? Acting tough isn't going to help, I'm sure. Acting ignorant, maybe?

"I-I don't know," I say, trying to imitate a stammer. "Wh-where the heck is this?"

Odu-Bathax blinks. "Are you saying you haven't heard of Mount Pillar?"

I point at the walls. "Is that this place? M-Mount Pillar? Are we inside a mountain?"

Odu-Bathax blinks again, like he doesn't quite know what to make of me. "Let's start at the beginning." He performs an overly dramatic bow, bending his upper body almost all the way to the ground, stepping back with one leg, and spreading all four of his arms in one motion. "I am Odu-Bathax, esteemed warrior of the Danian tribe, a guardian of the Hive's entryways, which **you** somehow got past."

I pretend to hesitate, as if I wasn't quite sure how to answer. "Um, m-my name is Michael. Um, tribe? Do you mean species? I'm a human. And I have no idea how we got here."

Odu-Bathax gives me a hard stare. "None at all?"

I shake my head while still trying to keep up my nervous expression. "No."

Odu-Bathax folds both of his pairs of arms and stares at the four of us. He looks like he's deep in thought. Eventually his antennae begin to vibrate. Maybe he's talking to another Danian?

Nothing happens for quite a while, then suddenly Odu-Bathax speaks, making me jump a little. "The four of you are to follow me. I will bring you to one of our muges."

I have to keep up the act. "M-muges? What's that?"

Odu-Bathax presses his face into on of his palms. "We can discuss that later. Mandiblores, keep your weapons on them!"

-[]-[]-[]-

I actually feel pretty confident. After all, I didn't die immediately like last time.

As we walk, I try to gather my thoughts. Apparently I ended up in the the exact same beginning situation as my first time in Perim. Exact same place, exact same partners, who acted the exact same way as before. Heck, even the mandiblore who found us first was the exact same one as before. A complete reset.

I'd actually thought, after my fourth time, that I'd never come here again, that I had already used up all my chances. It's exciting, getting another chance. It's also rather nerve-wracking. I mean, walking **directly** in front of me is the creature that killed me **last** time I was here.

It's been a while since we started walking. "I-is it much farther?" I ask.

Odu-Bathax answers without turning around. "We will meet the high muge in the next tower."

High muge? "Lore?"

Odu-Bathax stops, and I run into his back. "Tell me, Michael of the the Human tribe. How did you know his name?"

Oh crap. "I... uh..."

In a swift motion, Odu-Bathax draws his sword and swings as he turns to me.

There's an intense shock in my neck, like it suddenly decided to start screaming. It hurts so much. That's not the scary part. The scary part is that I can't feel my body.

The other three humans are screaming. I'd scream too, but I can't breath. I'm falling slowly backwards, and in front of me I see my headless body slump sideways.

Everything fades.

So much for try number two.

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**Up next: ****The Confrontation**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**And so our return to Mount Pillar ends as quickly as it began. Sorry about that. Kind of lost my head there.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	11. The Confrontation

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Confrontation**

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_**Time 14:**_

It's been two weeks since "the human invasion", as it is sometimes referred to.

My pants are absolutely shot. Any day now I'm going to bend over to pick something up and I'm going to hear the sound of tearing cloth. In theory I **could** walk around in my boxers, but yeah, it's time to go clothes shopping.

Mipedians really don't have anything kind of clothing that resembles pants. Makes sense, considering their tail. The most common kind of clothing for men is instead a kind of skirt called a shendyt.

The shopkeeper of the market stall I'm at is showing me a variety of cloth types. "And here you can find soft leathers made from the skins of various wild animals in the desert." He's describing things in somewhat dramatic language that he probably wouldn't use with another Mipedian.

I point at a stack of white folded cloth. "Actually, I think the flax linen will do fine."

The Mipedian grinds his teeth a little. The cloth I'm pointing at is the cheapest he has, and I'm certain he doesn't make much profit off of it. "Linen? Are you sure? There are softer cloths, such as cotton or silk-"

"I need to be able to work in it," I interrupt. "Linen is fine."

The shopkeeper sighs, "And what kind of clothing do you need. Sarong? Shendyt? Izarr?"

"Shen-det," I say while stumbling over the word. I feel the sorong and izarr look too feminine. "Two of them, no dyes or bleaching."

The Mipedian turns to a desk and takes out a scroll. "They will be ready by sunset. My offer is twenty-five palms each."

Yeah right they're worth that much. "It's your cheapest cloth. Twelve each."

The Mipedian glances at me. "It's for labor, and there are materials besides linen in a shendyt. Twenty-three each."

I put a smirk on my face. "A lot of that labor would be bleaching and dyeing the cloth, which isn't happening with these. Fifteen each."

"Twenty each."

"Seventeen each."

"Nineteen each." The shopkeeper folds his arms. "I'm not dropping to eighteen."

That means thirty-eight palms. It's still a bit much, but at least it isn't **fifty.** "Done."

-[]-[]-[]-

I spend the rest of the day wandering through the market. I'm not looking to buy anything yet, but it's still nice to see what's available, especially considering the constantly changing nature of the market. One merchant is selling jewelry. Another has what appears to be dice. I'm startled to see an Overworlder merchant, who looks like his wares are spices not found among the Mipedians.

I pass an alley when something takes my mind off the market. I hear a scream that suddenly get cut off. I stop walking and look down the alley. What happened?

There's a man slumped against the wall. There's blood covering his chest.

I step back, stunned. I open my mouth to call the guards, but suddenly something covers my mouth. An invisible force, a Mipedian, pushes me into the alley.

"Don't move," a voice hisses in my ear.

I stand very still. I feel hands search through my pockets. The thief doesn't find anything. A finger slides under the top of my pants and feels around. Crap, he's going to find the hidden pocket I put there.

I feel my ceramic "bank card" get pulled out of the secret pocket. The thief sounds flustered. "You... have an account?"

I nod slowly.

I feel the card scratch my stomach as the Mipedian roughly shoves it back where he found it. "Walk to the bank. Slowly." I feel something sharp poke my back.

I obey, trying to keep my breathing steady. I need to think. Fast. I don't know if this guy is going to let me go after he gets my money. I don't think he will, considering he seems to have killed his last victim.

Ah, I have an idea. I turn back onto the main road. "Where do you think you're going?" the thief hisses.

I mutter, "I set things up so I can only pick up my money from the bank at the front of the palace." It's not true, although it **was** an option.

"Fine," the thief whispers after a moment. "Don't go too fast."

I make it to the front steps of the palace when a voice makes me stop. "Good afternoon, Michael."

"Hello Malvadine," I say as I turn to the palace guard.

Malvadine puts on one of those scary but friendly grins he has. "You usually come here in the morning. Why the surprise visit? Heading to the bathhouse again today?"

"Actually, I'm headed to the bank." I feel the knife at my back press a little harder. "I've commissioned some clothing that's going to be ready at sunset." The knife stops pressing as hard.

Malvadine glances at my tattered pants. "You really are in need of replacements."

I look directly into Malvadine's eyes. "Say, are people still calling us 'Michael, Maliph, Malvadine'?"

I see Malvadine's eyes narrow just the slightest bit. "Yes they do."

I force a chuckle. "How long before that phrase is finally put **behind** us, I wonder?"

Malvadine nods. "I can't wait for the matter to **drop!**"

I crouch to the ground as fast as I possibly can while Malvadine abruptly swings his arm in the place where I was standing, and the air lights up above me. I hear a shriek, followed by the sound of something hitting the sand behind me. I turn to see an unconscious Mipedian flicker out of invisibility.

Malvadine lowers his arm and walks over to the thief. "I was wondering why you put our names out of order. He was trying to steal from you?"

"Probably kill me, too," I say. My heart's pounding, and I'm out of breath. The adrenaline is wearing off. "I can show you where he killed someone else." I put my hands on my knees and pant.

Malvadine snaps his fingers in front of his mouth, and a glowing ball appears in front of him. "Maliph."

Maliph's voice sounds from the spark. "This is he, Malvadine."

Malvadine looks down at the unconscious Mipedian. "I'm leaving a napping robber at the bottom of the steps to the palace. Send someone to pick him up."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Sixth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	12. The Sixth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Sixth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

The sands of Al Mipedim again. That same guy who got knocked out last time, and the eight kids. Yeah, this is exactly the same.

When Mr. Potty-Mouth starts yelling at the vanished Mipedian woman, I move away from him and beckon the children to get close to me. They do, getting behind me so that I'm between them and the other man. Not much longer afterwords, the man's head lurches forward with a thunk, and he collapses.

Time to try to change these first few moments.

I crouch and point at the man on the ground. "Did you see that, kids?" I ask while turning to look at them.

A couple of the children are covering their eyes. One kid has an excited look on his face, though. "Awesome!"

The soldier that knocked out the man reappears a couple feet away. He has an obviously confused expression on his face.

I stand back up and turn to the soldier. "Sorry about that, I needed to distract the children so they wouldn't be scared when they saw you."

So far acting unfazed is working brilliantly. I completely threw the soldier off his game. I extend a hand and say, "My name's Michael."

The soldier steps back and aims the spear at me. "Don't move."

Crap. At least I'm not dead yet.

-[]-[]-[]-

Prince Mudeenu is taking me to the palace. I'm trying to keep up my unflappable act, and so far, I think I'm doing well. The soldiers looked more confused than hostile, and Mudeenu could only stare at me blankly for a while before telling me to come with him.

We reach the door to the throne room. Last time, Prince Mudeenu left me in this hall with soldiers at watch while he entered the throne room alone. This time, though, he gestures at me to come in. Huh? What did I do to change this?

We walk into the throne room. What I can see out of the corners of my eyes looks amazing... but I can't seem to focus on the room. I'm just staring at Prince Mudeenu's back, like I'm trying to look through him. The Mipedian king is on the other side of him. Theb-sarr was the name, right?

Prince Mudeenu stops, then kneels and says, "King Theb-sarr, this is one of the intruders you were informed of." He gestures to me with a hand, and I step beside him.

Holy freaking **crap.** That's Theb-sarr. He's a muscular cross between a lizard and a dragon. No wings, but he doesn't need them.

I'm awestruck, staring at the royal Mipedian. He leans forward as if to say something, but I don't hear what he says. He and Mudeenu are talking. I'm just standing like an idiot, gawking at him. Oh boy, I need to stop staring. Nope, still staring. Does Theb-sarr have some sort of ability that makes it impossible not to stare at him?

King Theb-sarr turns to look at me, and I snap out of my daze. Uh oh, he's going to talk to me. Don't say anything stupid, Michael.

Theb-sarr leans forward and clicks his tongue. "He looks more like a lost soul than an intruder to me. What is your name, and where do you hail from?"

Deep breaths. "M-Michael. My name is Michael. I'm from Earth."

-[]-[]-[]-

This is the **worst** night I've ever had. I stay up almost all night, anticipating trouble. I keep expecting the pillow beside me to launch itself at my face. I'm going to look like a zombie in the morning.

At the crack of dawn of said morning, a servant kicks me out of the room so he can tidy it. Is that the Mipedian that killed me last time? I guess I'm not going to find out.

I stand in the hall outside the room, a little confused. So, I survived until morning. What now?

"Good morning, Michael," a voice strains.

I glance in the direction of the voice. It's Mudeenu. He doesn't look pleased to see me. "Your Highness," I say with a bow.

Prince Mudeenu bares his teeth. Did I offend him? He clears his throat and says, "It's a pleasant day. Perhaps you should go outside."

That's not at all what I expected to hear. "Huh?"

Mudeenu slowly walks up to me, stopping about a foot away. He stares down and firmly states, "I said, it's a pleasant day. **Perhaps** you should **go outside.**" There's a threatening tone in his voice.

Ah. I quickly walk away towards the palace's main doors.

I slow down once I'm outside. What do I do? I **should** be ecstatic. I'm in Perim! Isn't that the dream of every fan of the show? I should be trying to see as much of the Mipedian city as I can!

In fact, that's exactly what I'll do. I start walking away from the palace-

I feel a sharp blow hit my stomach. The air rushes out of my lungs and I collapse. I'm in pain, I can't move. I feel something grab the back of my shirt and start to drag me.

Whatever is dragging me stops in an alley not far from the palace. I groan and clutch my stomach, but I can open my eyes enough to see the air shimmer above me.

Three Mipedians appear. They're wearing the same armor I saw on the palace guards. One is flexing his right hand. I cough and groan as I try to get on my hands and knees.

"Don't let him get up," a voice growls. "Don't let him speak."

One of the Mipedians kicks me in the stomach, knocking me on my side. It hurts so bad. I try to cry for help, but I can't make myself inhale.

"Again," says the voice.

The other two Mipedians kick me in the stomach, one after the other. Why? I didn't do anything!

The voice sounds like it's enjoying itself. "The face now."

No, please stop! I can't say it out loud, and the Mipedian's foot races towards my face.

The world turns into a cascade of pain and stars. I feel blood on my face. Another Mipedian pushes me so I'm lying on my back, then launches his fist at my jaw. More pain, and I feel broken teeth in my mouth.

"Keep going," says the mirthful voice. Where have I heard it before?

The three Mipedians just start beating me. I curl into a ball, trying to hide my head with my arms. They won't let up, kicking and punching and it hurts so much.

Then they stop, and I'm lying on the ground and I hurt and aches and why are they doing this? Please stop, just go away, please.

An invisible force grabs the front of my shirt and lifts me up. I open my eyes as much as I can, and the air in front of my shimmers. A large Mipedian flickers into view.

It's Prince Mudeenu. He's wearing a savage grin. "You might have my uncle fooled, but I can see straight through you. You're an Overworld spy of some sort. Maybe a creature concocted from one of their experiments in biology."

No, you're wrong, please stop. I gasp for breath so I can speak.

Mudeenu shoves me against a wall and catapults his knee into my groin. Oh god, I can't think, it hurts, please, please just stop this. Mudeenu withdraws his knee, then suddenly smashes it between my legs again.

I'm about to black out. The edges of my vision are fading.

Mudeenu grins wider. "It's too bad you decided to leave the safety of the palace. There was a gang of murderers who saw you, and, in their bloodlust, they decided to see how much pain they could put you through." He punches me in the stomach.

Spare me this and just kill me already. It hurts, it hurts.

Mudeenu draws back his fist and punches me again. I feel blood rise in my throat and pour out of my mouth. Mudeenu glances at his fist as my blood splatters on it. "Ah, I'll have to clean up before I give my report on how I found your mangled corpse." Then he punches me in the throat. I don't even feel it anymore.

Mudeenu lets go of my shirt, and I crumble to the ground. I feel pressure on the back of my neck, and Mudeenu's voice comes from far away. "I'll be sure to include in my report how I tried to resuscitate you, but with a spine that had been crushed into tiny pieces, there wasn't **any** way you were recovering."

**CRUNCH!**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Mipedian Foreman **

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	13. The Mipedian Foreman

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Mipedian Foreman  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**_Time 14:_**

It's been three weeks since **that** day. People don't even call it anything anymore, they just say **that** day, and everyone else knows what they're talking about.

Today's a bit of a special day for me, too. Out of all fourteen times, this one is now my longest. I'm a little giddy, but I need to remember to be careful. I don't want to have to start all over **again.** Though I **am** going to celebrate once I'm done at the dew farm.

Three weeks of working at the dew farm have made me in better shape than anytime else in my life. I arrived here with a bit of a gut, but it's gone now. I have a solid muscle tone, as well. It's not just me, **everybody's** looking more fit. The struggle to survive can do that to a person.

"Shift's up! Next shift, start working the moment the person you're replacing stops!"

Twenty days of working out here, and the foreman says those **exact** same words each time. He's had to deal with so much crap here it isn't funny. Water thieves, dropped jugs, fights... There was even this one time when a woman was working topless and distracting everyone.

I put down my last two water vessels and head for the foreman's shack to collect my pay. The foreman is writing in a scroll when I get there. He doesn't seem to have seen me. "Um-"

"In a moment, Michael," the foreman says before clearing his throat. Ah, I guess he did see me. He writes a few more numbers down before rolling up the scroll. "Yes, your pay." He takes the coins out of a box and hands them to me.

"Thank you." I turn to leave.

"Can you stay a bit?" the foreman asks. "I want you to come with me when I'm done handing out wages."

I pause. This is new. "I... guess?"

The foreman clears his throat again. "Thank you."

-[]-[]-[]-

Well, this is somewhat of a surprise. The foreman is taking me to a bar. As in "place you go to get drunk" kind of bar.

The foreman takes a seat at a table in a corner of the main room, and I sit across from him. Another person quickly arrives. "May I bring you anything?"

Holy crap, the barmaid is a human. I didn't see that one coming.

The foreman clears his throat and leans back in his seat. "I'll take the hardest kainekot brandy you have."

The barmaid nods and turns to me. Crap, um... "Do you have any fresh beverages?"

It looks like I've confused the barmaid. The foreman chuckles. "He wants an alcohol-free drink."

"I see," the woman says. "In that case, anything that's on the menu, there's a fresh variety as well."

Perfect. "A kainekot fresh brandy, then, please." I have no idea what a kainekot is. I hope it tastes good.

The woman bows and leaves, and it's not long before she comes back with two identical looking glasses. She sets the cups on the table, bows, then vanishes again.

The foreman picks up one of the glasses, sniffs it, then sets it down in front of me. "That one's yours." He takes the other glass, sniffs it as well, then draws a drink from it. "Ah..." he sighs before clearing his throat.

Now that I can compare him to others, I can see that the foreman is rather atypical. For one, there are his dark green scales. Everyone else in the bar, save maybe one or two across the room, has scales that are some variation of yellow or orange. Even their eyes are usually those kinds of colors, while the foreman's are lime green. Maybe there are different races within the Mipedian tribe?

He even dresses differently, although that might simply be because of his work. He's wearing an odd leather skirt, like a Roman gladiator might have worn, and there are a pair of thin leather straps running across his muscular chest and stomach. He even has that whip still tied to the belt of his skirt. Is it the only outfit he owns? Wow, you need to get some new clothes, mister...

...Wow. Do I seriously not know his name? I **am** bad with remembering names, but I at least **know** that I used to know a person's name. This guy's basically my boss, I really should know his name.

I decide to get it over with. "I just realized I never learned your name."

The foreman opens one eye to look at me. He clears his throat and says, "Sett." Then he closes his eyes and takes another drink.

It's been bugging me so long, I forget to be polite when I ask. "Why are you always clearing your throat?"

It's that one-eyed look again. "It's nothing, it'll go away eventually."

Um, no, it's not. He's had it ever since we met.

Before I can say what's on my mind, Sett puts his glass on the table. "Tell me, Michael. Which stone on that wall is the most important one?" He's pointing at the entrance.

I look at the wall, at the carefully layered stones, at the archway that creates the entrance. "There are a few different answers to the question."

Sett clears his throat. Again. "Tell me all of them, then."

I take another look at the wall. "If you mean which stone **makes** it a wall, the answer is all of them. They're all working together to create that particular section of the building."

Sett nods. "What else?"

I point at the archway. "If you means which stone keeps the wall from **falling**, it's the keystone at the very top of that arch. The weight of that one rock keeps the other stones from slipping, locking the wall into place."

"Very nice," Sett says. "You don't sound like you're finished, though." He clears his throat.

I nod. "You're right, I have one more. If you're talking about **building** that wall, then the most important stone is the first one that was placed, the cornerstone."

"Oh?" Sett interrupts. "How so?"

I wave my hand around so it points to the walls of the bar. "Every other stone in the building, and by extension that wall, uses the cornerstone as a guide. If the cornerstone is crooked, the whole building will be out of alignment when it's finished."

Sett grins. "That is absolutely correct, Michael." He points at me and continues, "If you don't start something correctly, you're going to have a hell of a time fixing it later."

Trust me, Sett. I know **all** about starting things off wrong. "Why did you ask me that anyway?"

Sett grins and leans forward. "I need to hire another foreman."

I'm very glad I haven't touch my drink yet. That spit-take would have been messy. "And you're considering **me** for the job."

"Remember your first day?" Sett asks. He clears his throat and continues, "It took you mere seconds to understand our monetary system, and you weren't even looking at all the different kinds of coins!"

"Maybe I simply learned beforehand," I counter.

Sett shakes his head. "Your expression as you examined the coins told me otherwise. Now, remember that thief?"

I shrug. "Which one?"

Sett snorts. "The first one. You sure as hell intimidated **him** into obedience. And most of the others for that matter."

I grimace. "Thieves don't actually get their hands cut off here, do they?"

Sett shakes his head. "Didn't feel the need to mention that, though." Then he waves his hand as if brushing a thought aside. "Then there's your work ethic, your patience, your focus. Hell, I should have hired you for the position a while ago."

Michael the foreman. Some training required, I bet, but I'm a fast learner. "I'll do it, then."

"Many thanks," Sett says before clearing his throat. Then he lifted his glass to the air. "To the new foreman!"

I lift my glass as well. "To twenty-one days." I take a drink. Kainekot tastes like banana. Awesome.

-[]-[]-[]-

The afternoon passes. Sett orders and pays for another three drinks. I hope he isn't drinking too much. He's already acting more than a little odd.

"...and of course both armies are drunk as hell when the finally meet," he says before coughing a bit "Captain Kezzet greets the Overworld general as if they were meeting in a bar, and of course everyone's following along with it and having a **great** time. Right up until one of the Overworld soldiers claims that Captain Kezzet's compensating for something with the size of his sword."

I bury my face in my hands. "Oh no. And then the fighting started?"

"Nope," Sett giggles. "No, what Captain Kezzet does is stand up and pull out his penis to show it to the Overworld soldier!"

"Oh dear god," I mutter, my face probably red as a tomato.

"And then just to rub it in, the captain tells the soldier that his **is** smaller than other Mipedians' penises!" Sett howls with laughter that turns into a coughing fit. "I've never seen a face as humiliated as that Overworld soldier's, before or since!"

I shake my head in my hands. "I don't know **how** you survived that encounter."

Sett doesn't answer. I look up and see that he's passed out on the table. Oh dear.

I stand up and ask the barroom, "Does anyone know where Sett lives?"

The barmaid appears next to me. How does she do that? She's not even a Mipedian. "It's alright, the barkeeper always helps him get home."

I raise my eyebrows. "Always? Does this happen a lot?"

"Nearly every day," the barmaid says. "It started long before **that** day."

Sett's liver either looks like cheese now or is a world record holder. I sit back down. "Is he okay?"

The barmaid opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes her mouth. Finally she says, "If you're asking why he drinks so much, I can't tell you because I don't really know."

The barmaid picks a bucket out from under the table. She repositions Sett's unconscious form so that his face is over the bucket. Moments later, Sett vomits forcefully.

I cover my mouth and look away. "Ah. This must all be very routine now."

The barmaid nods. "We'll take care of everything. You should probably get on with your day, this will take a while."**  
**

I stand back up. "Thank you for the drinks, then." I leave a few palms on the table for her.

As I leave, I glance back at Sett. I really hope he's all right...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Seventh Time****  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Promotions! War stories! Projectile vomiting! Okay, I'll stop.  
**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	14. The Seventh Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Seventh Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

I am going to **strangle** Mudeenu when I get my hands on him! No, I can't, somewhat because the next time I see him he won't be the one who killed me. Not to mention I don't think I'm physically capable of strangling Mudeenu.

The Underworld. Oh, **joy**, I'm headed there next. How would you like your human, Chaor? Very well done, apparently. Oh great, now I'm imagining Chaor eating- ugh, no, stop thinking that.

-[]-[]-[]-

I open my eyes. No time to lose. I don't even turn around to look at Chaor, I just bolt.

Cover! I need cover! A pillar! I dive behind it, and moments after that I see a wave of flame pass me. The air heats as the napalm-like fire sticks to stone, but I'm untouched.

"Chaor, stop!" a panicked voice screeches. "You'll burn the palace down!"

I glance out from behind the pillar. Chaor's hands are alight with flames, and the blue lizard-man Agitos is frantically pulling Chaor's tail. Chaor's face is twisted with rage, and it looks like he's about to throw more fire anyway. I quickly hide behind the pillar again.

"Agitos is right, Lord Chaor," a female voice says. "Let **me** deal with... whatever that thing is."

I hear a deep growl. Chaor speaks, and his deep rough voice sends chills down my spine. "Hm... Very well, Takinom."

Good news, Chaor's no longer trying to roast me alive. Bad news, now Takinom is.

There's napalm all over the floor, except for strips of ground that were protected by pillars. I have no room to maneuver, while Takinom has wings. Running isn't an option, so...

I put my hands up when Takinom lands in front of me. "I give up!"

Well, **that** made her pause. Takinom raises an eyebrow as she looks at me up and down. "Lord Chaor, I'm certain this creature is not a warrior of any kind. Nor a spy, he doesn't look that intelligent."

Wow, that stung a little.

"Bring him here," Chaor growls. "I'll be the judge of that."

Takinom spreads her wings and lifts into the air. Oh crap. She swoops down and grabs me by the shoulder before rising into the air.

The three seconds it takes for Takinom to deposit me in front of Chaor's throne are terrifying. I keep silently begging her not to drop me.

Chaor's sitting on his throne again. He glares down at me, the left side of his lips raised in a sneer. I can see sharp white teeth.

My legs can't take it, they buckle. I feel my knees hit the ground.

Chaor leans forward until his muzzle is maybe a foot away from my face. His voice rumbles, "Do you know who I am?"

Do I feign ignorance? Do I reveal what I know? Either way, I think something's going to go wrong.

Screw it. "Yes. You're Chaor." Wow, I kept my voice from shaking.

Chaor narrows his eyes and huffs. His breath feels hot. "So **why** aren't you bowing?"

Crap, how do I get out of this? How do you recover from disrespecting the king of the Underworld? "I-I..." **Now** I'm stammering.

Chaor bares his teeth and snorts. "Speak up before I decide to kill you, maggot."

Suddenly I know the answer. "F-forgive me. I-I'd always been taught that the gods were **insulted** when mortals bowed to them."

The switch from anger to confusion on Chaor's face happens a lot slower that I would have liked it to be. "Gods?" he mutters quietly. Then he furrows his brow. "Why would a god not want to be bowed to?"

Right, I just need to feed his ego a bit more. "I-I don't know," I stammer. "I-it never made sense to me. And now I'm **more** confused. Is this some kind of test? To see if I would bow to you?"

Chaor leans back on his throne with a thoughtful look in his eyes. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his throne.

Agitos speaks up. "Lord Chaor?"

Chaor raises a finger and shakes his head, and Agitos falls silent.

Chaor lifts a leg and drapes it over the armrest while his body leans in the other direction. He looks almost like the stereotypical lazy monarch now, except for his expression showing how deep in thought he is. Suddenly he speaks, "Tell me, mortal, as a test of your knowledge and faith, what do I govern? All of it. You fail my test if you miss anything."

He's pretending to test me so that he can learn what kind of god I think he is. Excellent. "Y-you're the god of the Underworld, the place souls travel to after death. Y-you are also the god of war, death and conquest, grooming the strongest of the souls that come to you into soldiers. Th-the weak wander through your realm, serving you whenever called upon, or are put to final rest."

A grin slowly creeps across Chaor's face. "Are you certain you aren't forgetting anything? Maybe there's an old text you read that tells of the lesser things I govern."

Now he's just fishing for compliments. I'm at a loss for a second until I think of something else to stroke his ego. "Um, it is rumored that you are also the god of life and fertility, sending your strongest soldiers back to the mortal coil to be reborn. Th-the priests refused to answer questions about that, though..."

"Very good," Chaor grins. "One last question in your test. **How** do I reincarnate my strongest?"

...Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I need to think of something that will make sense to Chaor while not being insulting. Oh, crap, I don't like what I've just thought of, but I can't look like I'm making this up. "You, er, you throw a celebration for the soldier, during which you sw-swallow him. Then you come to the mortal world and..." Oh come on, don't choke now, Michael! "...and you find someone worthy of bearing the new king and mate with her."

I feel incredibly dirty. Maybe I should just die and get it over with.

Chaor widens his eyes eyes a little, and his grin grows wider. "Excellent work, mortal," he says. "You've passed my test."

Takinom looks agitated. "Lord Chaor, I need to talk to you."

Chaor glances at her and lowers his head. "What is it?" he mutters.

Takinom drops her voice to a whisper, but not low enough for me to not hear her. "I don't think you should pose as some other creature's god."

Chaor snorts and whispers back, "Didn't you hear him call me the god of the dead? He thinks he's one of those dead souls, he's not going to question any inconsistencies."

Wow, Underworlders are bad at whispering.

Takinom bites her lower lip. "What when he sees that you don't have the same powers as his Chaor? Nor his army?"

Chaor holds back a laugh. Badly. "I can **easily** fake it. I can even say that dead souls change form after a while so he doesn't wonder why Underworlders don't look like him. As for reincarnating soldiers, hmm, I'll think of something." He grins again as he says that last part. "Something fun." Oh my god, he's getting an erection, and that loincloth isn't hiding it well.

Forget this, I'm not going to try to live in an Underworld where I told Chaor I thought he was a god.

Before I can say anything, the doors to the throne room burst open, and a group of creatures wearing spiky red plate armor rush into the room. "Lord Chaor!" one of them cried out. "Strange creatures have appeared all over the city!"

Agitos's jaws drops. Takinom's body jerks in surprise. Chaor's eyes widen for a moment, then he smirks. "Do they happen to look like our guest here?"

The lead spiky warrior stares at me. "Yes, they do."

Chaor laughs and stands up. "We're in luck. I look exactly like those creatures' god of death, war, and fertility. Gather them together and tell them that their god will arrive to address them shortly."

The warriors hesitantly bow and leave, and the doors slam shut behind them. Chaor stands. "Agitos, find me something to wear that looks like a deity would wear it." He undoes the belt holding his loincloth up and lets it drop. "Maybe black leather to represent death, with metal spikes for war."

"A-as you wish, Lord Chaor," Agitos stammers in confusion as he heads for the door.

Chaor removes his spiked arm-guards. "No gold, no gems. If they expect me to wear jewelry, I'll simply say that I've never had so many arrive in the same place and was not prepared." He takes off his boots and taps the ground with his hooves, then pauses as he looks at his naked form. "Ah, right, fertility god. On second thought, maybe a codpiece made of gold."

Takinom glances at me. "Chaor, you've forgotten about somebody."

I'm pretty certain I've gone into shock at some point. Chaor looks at me, then groans. "Gah, I can't have him telling everyone the truth. Fetch me a mugic, Takinom."

Takinom quickly flies to the door along with Agitos, and the door closes again, leaving me alone with Chaor.

Chaor grins at me. "I wonder if I really can swallow one of you creatures whole."

My heart stops.

Chaor continues, "It may be difficult if you struggle, though. I'll test it with your corpse first."

Takinom flies back into the throne room with a seven-sided ring. She hands the mugisphere to Chaor, who accepts it. Well, looks like it's time to die.

Chaor turns to me and lets go of the mugisphere, which begins to float towards the ceiling. "Maybe I'll even test 'reincarnating' you afterwords," he snickers. Then he spreads his legs, tightens the muscles in his body and roars.

A ghostly image rises from Chaor, glowing red. A mugician. It rises to the floating mugisphere and spirals into the gap at its center.

"Canon of Casualty!" Chaor roars. "Kill the creature before me!"

The mugisphere explodes into a display of fiery yellow light, and an orchestra of sound flows out, deepening in tone as the mugic's light shoots towards me. I brace myself as...

The world suddenly turns into pain, and then vanishes...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Trials of Leadership**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	15. The Trials of Leadership

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Trials of Leadership**

-[]-[]-[]-

**_Time 14:_**

I need to note down where each water vessel went to be filled, who ran it, who filled it, who ran it back. The whip is used both to grab attention and as a punishment device, but only at times where its use has been authorized. I need to divide the fillers and runners so that there isn't any stop to the work flow. Each shift is four hours, measured by a sand timer on the foreman's desk. Pay is distributed according to how much work each person actually did. I'm to resolves all conflicts in the southeastern section of the dew farm.

I think I've got this. I **hope** I've got this.

"You have a new foreman today," Sett explains to the confused crowd of workers. "Michael of the Human tribe."

I nod my head as Sett points to me. I see some Mipedians scowl and some humans grin.

Sett turns to me. "I turn it over to you," he says before heading to the north.

I fold my arms over my chest. "In this time we have before we can get started, I will clarify a few things." Careful, Michael, don't start stuttering. "I noticed some very pleased faces and some scowls earlier. If you're thinking that I'm going to give special treatment to certain people, you need to stop thinking that right now."

Well, those pleased faces disappeared very quickly. The scowls are still there, though.

I take a breath and continue. "As has always been before, if you work well, then you're going to get paid well for your work. If your work is poor, then you'll be paid poorly. And if you cause problems..." I pause and glare at the crowd, "then **I** have to cause problems."

Well, it wasn't the best speech of all time, but it got their attention.

I walk to the shack where the record-keeping tools are. "The wells will be filling any moment. Get to it."

-[]-[]-[]-

One hour into the first shift.

I used to wonder how Sett managed to keep track of everything. Now I see it's not actually that hard. I can see my entire section from here, and as long as I don't relax too much and stop focusing I'll do fine. I'm not even having my usual problems with focusing. I guess the importance of all this helps.

I pause in my writing and scratch my shoulder. Gah, I **do** have to get used to this leather uniform, though. The edges of these chest straps are frayed and dig into my skin sometimes when I move. The leather gladiator skirt sticks to my skin if I don't move my legs once in a while.

Ah! I'm losing focus! Pay attention, Michael!

And not long after I snap myself to attention do I see two people struggling on the ground. I stand up and rush over.

A Mipedian has pinned a human to the ground and is trying to beat the snot out of him. The human's arms are free, though, and he's protecting his face. They've drawn a crowd.

Well, it would have been stupid to think that nothing would go wrong on my first day. I untie my whip from my waist, grab the end, and give it a flick.

The way a whip works is that a motion at the handle causes a wave to travel down the whip's body. As the wave goes down the whip, the energy of the wave has less material to act on, and so travels faster. When this energy reaches the end, the tip of the whip flies through the air at speeds exceeding the speed of sound, creating a sonic boom.

A good swing can make the crack of a whip sound like a gunshot.

Everyone is now looking at me.

I slide the whip through my hands and say as calmly as I can, "Whoever didn't participate in this, return to your work **immediately**."

People scatter, and now there's only the three of us. The human pinned by the Mipedian shouts, "Get this crazy lizard off me!"

I look at the Mipedian. "You should let him go."

The Mipedian growls, "He-"

"Let. Him. Go." I glare at the Mipedian. "Otherwise I'll have to assume you attacked him unprovoked."

The Mipedian stands and back away. He's glaring at the human he'd been pinning down.

I fold my arms again. "All right then. What happened?"

The human points at the Mipedian accusingly. "He just tried to rip my face off!"

The Mipedian snarls, "He threatened my sister."

The human scoffs, "I didn't threaten her! I said she had nice boobs for a lizard!"

The Mipedian bares his teeth at the human, "Then you drawled on about how you wanted to take her to your place and 'f*** her brains out'! And I know what f*** means, you-"

"I was **joking**," the human spits. "As if I'd ever touch one of you filthy-"

I really like how easy it is to make that gunshot sound with a whip. Both people jolt in surprise and look at me.

I look at the human. "Do you have a sister?"

"...Yes," was his reply.

I point at the Mipedian. "If he'd said the exact same thing about your sister, what would you have done?"

The human doesn't have anything to say to that. The Mipedian glares at the human.

"And you," I say, turning my attention to the other person. "What did attacking him accomplish?"

"I was protecting my sister," the Mipedian says simply.

I tilt my head. "So, there isn't a person you could have voiced your concerns to so that they could handle it while you continued working?"

The Mipedian opens his mouth, but no sounds come out. He blinks a couple times.

I coil my whip up and tie it to my waist again. "I want you two to get back to work. There will be no fighting while you're working, no taunting, no rude gestures, no insults, nothing that interferes with water collection." I point at the pair of them. "If either of you still have a problem when the shift is up, bring it to the people who can do something about it."

The two workers glare at each other for a moment, then head in opposite directions.

I don't know if I handled that the best possible way, but at least everyone's working again. I head back to the foreman's shack. Only three more hours of this...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Eighth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	16. The Eighth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Eighth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm heading to Kiru City next. If the pattern holds up, of course.

...I don't really know if I'm happy about that. I haven't lasted more than a day so far, and I can't quite figure out how to last longer than that. I mean, yes, I've done some stupid things that got me killed, but I have no idea what exactly I did wrong both times I was at Al Mipedim, for example, and Underworld freaking City dumps me directly in front of one of the most dangerous creatures in Perim.

Life was so much easier when it wasn't killing me all the time.

Well, maybe I should just lay low. As long as I don't get involved in stuff I shouldn't be a target, correct? But then, I'm one of the humans there that actually know what's going on. Keeping it all to myself... what would that make me?

Stop over-thinking it, Michael. It's not like it hurts you when you screw up there. Besides the literal definition of hurt, but so far it hasn't been permanent. So just get in there and do your stuff!

Yeah, just go do it, Michael.

…

Why am I hesitating?

…

Just **go**, Michael! You always wanted to go to Perim. True, you meant in the way that the show had it, but this is as much as you're going to get.

And now I'm talking to myself in the second person. Ugh.

...What's waiting for me beyond the first day?

Yeah, I should look at it like that. I want to go there and see what happens. And if it kills me, I'll just try again next time.

...Okay, I'm ready.

I open my eyes.

-[]-[]-[]-

Just try to enjoy the scenery. I think that over and over as the air whips around me.

The poor woman is screaming as we fall. I wasn't able to pull her up, and I'd lost my footing.

I'm scared, but not as much as I thought I'd be. Actually, it's kind of fun.

The woman is still screaming. I'm so sorry, I'll find a better way next time.

Who knew that Kiru City's buildings were so tall?

Maybe I won't be so stinking scared next time I come here. After all, I'm falling now, and it's really not that bad.

The ground is very close now. It won't be long until-

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Lying Game**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	17. The Lying Game

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Lying Game**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14;**_

"You did well for a first day," Sett muses as he looks in his glass of kainekot brandy. "You need to remind people to hurry up a bit more, though. Crack that whip a bit."

We're back at the bar Sett brought me to yesterday. He's starting his critique on my performance.

"Do you mean that literally?" I ask.

"Yes," Sett says before taking a drink. He clears his throat and continues, "The runners are called runners for a reason. I took it easy on you humans at the beginning because you all looked horribly new at it, but now we need results."

I nod. "I see." I chew on the inside of my cheek for a moment. "I'll try to be less hesitant with the whip in the future."

Sett opens one eye and looks at me. "I've heard from other humans about the stigma attached to whips. Let me remind you that you aren't overseeing a slave labor force. Everyone at the dew farm chose to work there, and they can quit at any time."

"Right," I mutter. Still doesn't make it any less creepy.

Sett swirls his drink around inside its glass for a moment before draining it. He sets down the empty glass and clears his throat. "Michael," he begins. "I've heard maybe two others with that same name."

I chuckle a bit. "It used to be the most common male name in the country I was from. I forget which is most common now."

Sett raises his brow and taps a finger on the table. "Hmm. What was your world like?"

Oh. Well, I knew questions like that would come up eventually. "Well, we came from a world we call Earth, like the element."

The barmaid performs one of those appearing acts. I still don't know how she does it. "It's a lot like Perim, actually, minus all the magic and a lot of the wonder." She sets a glass in front of Sett.

"Sounds boring," Sett mutters. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The barmaid turns to me. "Can I get you anything else?"

I glance at my half-full glass of kainekot fresh brandy. "I'm not done with this one yet."

Sett snorts and clears his throat. "Bring him a harder one. I'll pay for it."

"But I don't-" I begin.

Sett knocks the table hard, and I close my mouth. "We'll talk about that nonsense later," he frowns.

The barmaid bows and heads for the kitchens. Sett clears his throat. "Now where was I? Ah yes, your world."

I bite my lower lip. I can feel an awkward question coming.

Sett picks up his glass. "You must have had some family. You miss them?" He lifts the glass to his mouth.

I was right. Awkward question.

The honest answer is that I don't. Out of context, it sounds callous, but with what I know about all of this...

I can't tell the truth on this one, though. "I miss them a lot."

Sett puts the glass down and looks at me with one eye. "You don't **sound** like you miss them."

I wave my hand around a bit. "All of this? It's not exactly conductive to acting like I feel."

Sett frowns. "I don't follow."

I sigh and lean on the table. "Every day in Al Mipedim is some kind of struggle to survive. I can't go moping about the life I lost on Earth, or else I'm going to lose the one I have now in Perim."

Sett nods with a satisfied expression. "Ah. Yes, I've seen a few humans wasting away pitying themselves." He clears his throat a little.

"Here's your brandy," the barmaid says while placing a glass in front of me.

I jump a little in my seat. "Stop doing that!"

The barmaid chuckles and smooths out her tunic. "But it's so **fun**! Back home I had to wear one of those stupid short waitress skirts, and I was supposed to be all pretty for everyone to look at."

Oh. "And here you get to be a ninja waitress."

The barmaid grins. "Pretty much. Anything else?"

Sett raises a hand. "We're good."

The woman turns and walks off. I glance down at the brandy in front of me. It's true, I **don't** drink alcohol. Not back on Earth, anyway. Given what's really going on, it wouldn't hurt here in Perim, but...

Sett clears his throat and points at my glass. "Aren't you going to drink that?"

I grimace. What's a believable lie here? "Er, alcohol makes me sick."

Another of Sett's one-eyed stares. "How so?"

Crap, um... "I can't keep it down at all."

Sett shrugs and reaches over for the glass. "I guess I'll take it then."

-[]-[]-[]-

Sett has reached the point where he's telling dirty stories again. I'm not really paying attention, I'm just nodding every time he pauses for breath.

A thin Mipedian with bright red scales walks up behind Sett and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Sett, how many drinks have you had?"

"Not enough," Sett chuckles drunkenly before coughing into his fist. "Can you get me another one?"

The Mipedian looks at me. "How many has he had?"

I count on my fingers. "Four."

He shakes his head. "You've had enough for tonight, Sett."

"Oh come on," Sett grins. "Just one more? One of them was a pansy drink that guy didn't want."

The Mipedian pats Sett's shoulders. "Not until tomorrow."

Sett sighs and sags in his seat. "I see." His face brightens, and he smiles at the other Mipedian. "You coming to my place tonight, Rasha?"

The Mipedian rolls his eyes. "Yes, Sett, I'm coming over."

Sett giggles a little strangely. "I'll be looking forward to it, sweetheart."

I raise an eyebrow. Hadn't seen that coming.

The Mipedian that Sett had called Rasha sits next to me. "Just so we're clear," he whispers, "My name is not Rasha, it's Shasta."

I give Shasta or Rasha or whatever he's called a look. "Right. Why's he calling you Rasha then?"

The Mipedian rolls his ruby eyes. "He's confusing me for my sister, his wife."

I blink, then glance at Sett. "Um... how hard is the hardest kainekot brandy here?"

Shasta points at a human across the bar. "He only managed to finish half a glass of it."

The human Shasta is pointing at is out like a light, drool leaking from his mouth onto the table. I blurt, "And Sett drinks **four** on a regular basis?"

Sett laughs, then has a small coughing fit. "Hey Rasha, you know I don't mind you hitting on the human there, but save some lovin' for me."

Well, **that's** a strange image in my head. I shake it out of my mind, then ask, "So... where **is** Rasha?"

Shasta clicks his teeth together a few times while he glances at Sett. "She... is away."

Uh oh. "...I take it's something she... can't come back from?"

The way Shasta sags in his seat tells me all I need to know. He stands up. "I need to get back to keeping the bar." He walks off.

I look at the cheery Sett with a different opinion of him. He's trying to drink away the pain of his wife's death.

I close my eyes and rest my head on the table. I wonder how she died...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Ninth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Poor Sett.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	18. The Ninth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Ninth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

"It's a game called Chaotic," I explain to the completely befuddled Odu-Bathax. "Many things from Perim, such as creatures, battlegear, locations, mugic, attacks, they're all represented by cards in this game."

Odu-Bathax blinks once, twice, three times. Then he presses the sword he's pointing at me harder against my chest. "So you're saying you 'humans' created Perim?"

Whoa, let's go **far** away from **that** line of thought. "It would be arrogant and foolish for me to the that ink on paper created this whole world."

Odu-Bathax stares at my face for a moment. Then he hands the sword off to a mandiblore. "Make sure they stay here," he orders as he marches down the hall.

My three fellow humans are still staying silent. I sigh and turn to them. "I'm guessing none of you ever played the game."

"No," says one of the young women. Her voice is shaking. "Y-you said we're in Mount Pillar?"

I nod. "It's a large underground hive, stretching from near the surface of Perim to the bottom of the Underworld." I shudder as I imagine the height. That would be a much longer fall than last time's at Kiru City.

Some of the mandiblores are looking at each other and whispering. Well, I guess you're bound to make and impression when you reveal that you know just about everything about a world that you shouldn't have any clue of.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see a mandiblore's spear hovering over it. "Um," begins the mandiblore holding the weapon, "when you were naming members of our tribe, you included Raznus."

I nod. "And?"

The mandiblore tilts his head. "Well, Raznus **is** at Mount Pillar, but he's an Overworlder."

I blink in surprise. "Wait," I blurt, "you didn't assimilate him yet?"

The mandiblore's eyes widen. "Yet?" He rears back a little on his hind pair of legs. "How did **you** know about that?"

I have a general place in time now! I'm somewhere before the Silent Sands expansion's place in time! Ranzus was turned into a Danian between that one and the previous one, Zenith of the Hive! I wonder if all the other places have been at this time.

Oh. If it's the **exact** same time each time, then there's nobody with that woman at Kiru City to save her...

-[]-[]-[]-

"It's bizarre, Lore," I hear Odu-Bathax's voice coming from the tunnel ahead of us. "You'd almost think he could only learn all of what he says from spying on us."

Another voice, ragged and tired, says, "You believe not, though?"

I see Odu-Bathax come into view, along with a much smaller Danian. This one is thin and only slightly taller than a human, and he's wearing a brown robe, almost like that one brown wizard from The Hobbit, minus the hat and all the bird crap. Like Odu-Bathax, he walks on two legs and has four arms. Lore, the high muge of the Danians.

Odu-Bathax has his arms held out in front of his, and it looks like he's about to grab something floating in front of his chest. "When he was describing Perim, his eyes were drifting as if he was reading from a scroll or a book. He pinched the fingers of his left hand together as he described the card game. He even knows the princess's name!"

Lore tilts his head. "Her naming ceremony hasn't been completed," he notes. "So far only Queen Illexia knows where the child's name will be."

"I spoke to the Queen Illexia before I came to you," Odu-Bathax says. "The 'human' was correct."

Wait, Aszil's still a child?

Lore's eyes widen. "First a traitor to the hive, and now mysterious creatures that know more than should be possible. What else has this day in store for us?"

Wow, Lore, that sounded a lot like a "what else can go wrong today" kind of statement.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm near the top of Mount Pillar. Humans who already knew about Chaotic are gathered here. The others, I don't know where they are. The Danian populace is in an uproar.

I'm sitting by myself. I don't like to socialize when I'm this stressed. I shouldn't be stressed, I know, but I am anyway.

Lore is **very** curious about humans. He's been walking through here periodically, rubbing all four of his hands together and muttering to himself. Occasionally he stands up one of us and takes a closer look. Last time he examined a woman's left eye. It's kind of freaky.

Lore walks in again, muttering even faster than last time, and his gaze falls on me. He strides over, bends down in front of me, and wrenches open my mouth without any warning. I try to stay calm.

"Rearmost molars on top jaw have a smoother inner surface than on lower jaw. Different from previous subjects. Dental work?" Shesh, this guy's probably speaking as fast as a certain salarian scientist.

Lore leaves soon afterwords. I stand and look out the window. The view's nice, at least. A lot more exciting that you'd expect from an underground city. Some parts of the stone ceiling glow, and-

I feel a sharp pain in my back. I turn around. There's a Danian wearing a ragged black cloak.

My back is beginning to ache. I stare at the Danian. He's just standing there, watching me, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

...Oh no. No, he just infected me with a parasite, didn't he. He's going to turn me into a little loyal mandiblore. No, I'd rather die!

I look at the window. It's narrow. Can I fit through it? I feel my back spasm. I'd better fit.

I rush to the window and fit my shoulder through the gap. The Danian who infected me gawks in surprise. I let all the air out of my lungs and try to squeeze through.

"What are you doing?" somebody screams. The other humans think I've gone nuts. They probably didn't see what had happened. One person grabs my arm. I slug him in the face, and he goes sprawling.

My upper body is almost all the way through. My hips are still inside, though, and the spasms are spreading. I hear a tearing sound, and several people shriek. I look back towards the sound to see that spikes are sprouting from my back.

_Why am I jumping? I want to serve the hive._

No! Michael, don't think that!

_But the hive will protect me, and I can stay here forever and ever._

Gah! No! My mind belongs to **me**! Jump, Michael, **jump**!

_Aren't you scared of heights, Michael? Go back inside and tell the humans how wonderful being a Danian is._

**No! Fall! Fall! FAAALLLLLL!**

I somehow squirm my hips through the gap, and I begin to plummet. I have so far to fall.

There's a shooting pain on my forehead. Antennae! I feel them vibrate. No! No hive calls! I reach up and grab one with both hands. It takes a bit of effort to painfully break it off.

It's too late. I see two winged Danians fly out of windows below me.

_Save me, my brothers! Take me back to the hive!_

Gah! No! Let me fall!

One of the winged Danians starts flying downwards until he's going a bit slower down that I am. He reaches out his arms to catch me. I punch him in the eye. That Danian spirals away, dazed. The other Danian, this one above me, is flying down faster than I'm falling to catch me.

_I'm sorry, I promise not to hurt a brother again._

Let me fall!

_Save me, I'll be forever grateful._

I want to die!

_Catch me! Catch me!_

**NO!**

I launch both my feet at the Danian's face, and he crumbles in midair. He drifts away, his wings catching currents as he hangs unconscious in the air.

The ground is getting close now. _Someone save me!_ No! Let me die! _I don't know what I'm saying, of course I want to live!_ Let me hit the ground! _I want to serve you forever!_ I want to die! _I'll always love you, fellow Dania-_

I hit the ground headfirst.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Birthday in Perim****  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit in that corner for a while.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	19. The Birthday in Perim

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Birthday in Perim**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

It's been two months since **that** day. In that time, Humanity has been making its presence known throughout the various Mipedian cities, and word has since arrived that Humans are making a foothold in this world among the other three tribes as well.

Racism, or rather "tribism", is a common problem, though it hasn't been as bad as it could have been. We have King Theb-sarr to thank for that, with his proclamation that the members of the Human tribe living within Mipedian borders were protected by the same laws that protect Mipedians. Still hasn't stopped some of the nastier hate crimes perpetrated by both Humans and Mipedians, but progress is being made.

I have a full beard now, or at least its long enough to **look** like one. Two solid months without shaving are to blame for that. Also, thanks to workout practices forced on me by Sett, my appearance finally fits my job. Gone are the days where people would intentionally cause problems at the dew farm because they believed they could get away with it, though actual fights and slacking off still require much of my attention.

The average Human living in Mipedian borders is now tanned, with respectable muscle mass on a light frame. There are still a few overweight folk, mostly those with unlucky genetics, but Humans are no longer considered the tribe of weaklings. Some humans are even training in the Mipedian military.

We're getting used to the new calendar. A Perim year, called a "solan", is a day or two longer than half of a year back on Earth. With a little bit of math, I discover that the equivalent of my birthday is coming up. This fact does not go unnoticed by my Mipedian friends when I mention it...

-[]-[]-[]-

"To your forty-seventh solan!" a chorus of voices resound from my room.

The words wake me up with a start, and I reflexively grab my discarded blanket from beside me and cover myself with it. "Agh! Knock first!" I growl.

"You don't exactly have a door," Maliph's voice notes.

I flip the top edge of my blanket off my face an glare at my visitors. "Then knock the frame!"

There's quite a few Mipedians standing in my house. There's Maliph and Malvadine at the front, both wearing normal clothing rather than their usual guard armor. Sett is standing off to the side, closer to the curtain I have in place of a door. There's also around five others I recognize but don't know very well.

I look around at my uninvited guests. "Why are you all in my house?" I ask in a monotone voice.

"We're here to help you celebrate your forty-seventh," Malvadine grins.

I close my eyes and sigh. Forty-seven solan old, twenty-three and a half years back on Earth. The Mipedian equivalent for the Human age of twenty-one, finally seen as a full adult. "Didn't I tell you guys that forty-two is the age Humans have that celebration at?"

Sett speaks up, "Did you ever have that celebration back on Earth?"

I hesitate a little too long. "That settles that," Maliph says before he reaches down and pulls my blanket off.

"Ack!" I try to scramble for my blanket and cover my groin at the same time. "Get out of here, I need to get dressed!"

Malvadine chuckles, "Two months of sharing a bathhouse room with the rest of us, and **now** you're having an issue with nudity?"

Maliph snorts. "I think it's his morning wood, actually. Come on, Michael, we all saw it before we woke you up. We know what it looks like."

I blush bright red. The Mipedians all snicker. Ugh. My Mipedian friend can really act like immature teenagers sometimes...

-[]-[]-[]-

Sett is giving me a paid vacation today, and he's taking an unpaid holiday himself. Heck, Maliph, Malvadine, and the other five are **all** valuable time out of their days to spend it with me. Forty-seven solans must be a lot more important to Mipedian culture than I thought.

I drank actual water today! Pure water. Not mixed into or diluting another drink, not as an ingredient in a larger meal. Straight from a sealed jug to a glass, no surprises added, honest-to-goodness water. A cold glass of water has never before been so delicious.

I drink slowly, letting small sips of water sit in my mouth a while before swallowing. Oh man, I love this water. The desert is the only place where receiving water as a birthday gift could be the best thing ever.

"If only people back on Earth could realize how wonderful having water always available really is," I say after finishing the glass. "Holy crap, that was refreshing."

The others sitting around me give me confused looks. "There are Humans who take water for granted?" Maliph asks, setting down his own empty glass.

"There are entire **countries** that take water for granted," I exclaim, spreading my arms out and accidentally bumping one of Malvadine's spikes. "Sorry about that."

Malvadine waves my apology away. "Not a problem." He gives me a serious look. "How readily available **is** water back on Earth?"

"At least where you used to live," another Mipedian amends.

I look around to see if anyone is listening before leaning forward. The others lean forward as well. "Well, for one, Humans where I came from washed themselves using water."

"Well, Overworlders do that," someone says.

"Do Overworlders fill a tub this size to bathe in?" I wave my arms around in the rough shape of a bathtub. "Or stand under a nozzle and let the water fall on them?" I add. Then, to emphasize my point, I finish with, "On an almost daily basis?"

The Mipedians stare at me like I just grew a second head and started singing a duet with it. Sett shakes his head. "That's a joke, right?"

I shake my head. "And we have places like this where you can eat out, except getting water from those places is free."

Forget the duet, now everyone's looking like me like an entire **choir** is sprouting from my shoulders.

-[]-[]-[]-

Conversations like the one about how water's used on Earth continued throughout the entire day, interspersed with the various activities I was dragged into. It's incredibly hilarious to see things I see as commonplace be seen as completely foreign to my Mipedian friends.

"No mugic whatsoever?" Malvadine whispers practically in awe. "But, how do you heal soldiers on the field?"

"We don't," I shrug. "They have to be hospitalized."

"Wars must have been very short in your world's history," Malvadine mutters in astonishment.

I bite my lower lip. "Nope. Most last longer than wars do here."

Maliph and Malvadine stare at me with their eyes open very wide. Before either can say anything, Sett announces, "And our last stop of the day!"

It's the bar Sett always goes to. How predictable. "I can't drink-" I begin to say.

Sett points at me. "You claim you can't keep it down? I'll need to see proof before I leave you alone about it."

I groan. Well, it looks like my first drink ever will be at a bar in Perim.

The nine of us sit around one of the bar's larger tables. Sett orders a round of drinks, not the hardest kind like he usually does. The barmaid takes the glasses to our table. Everyone's eyes turn towards me.

I gingerly take a hold of the glass and look in it. It's a bright red liquid, and it's so opaque that the edge of the glass disappears immediately upon touching the drink. I take a deep breath, lift the cup to my lips, and tilt the glass.

It tastes like slightly overripe mangoes. It burns my throat on the way down.

Sett grins. "See? Not as bad as you thought, right?"

I wonder if I can force myself to vomit. No, they'll know I faked it.

-[]-[]-[]-

We've been at the bar for half an hour. I... think so, anyway. I'm having to much fun with the fuzzies to be keeping track of the time. There's fuzzies all over my body. "Why are there so many fuzzies?" I ask while I pull at a particularly thick fuzzy.

"That's your chest hair," Maliph snorts.

Oh. I leave the fuzzy alone.

One of the Mipedians points at me. "Look at how red his face is!"

"**That** is a drunk Human," Malvadine smirks. "Nobody give him any more."

Any more? Any more what? Alcohol? Nonsense, I don't drink. Do I?

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn around. There's a female Mipedian behind me. I can tell because she has breasts. Heh, boobies. Why do the lizard-women have boobs?

"You having a good forty-seventh?" the lizardy-woman says as she puts a hand on my other shoulder and starts rubbing them.

"Yeah," I nod with a wide grin. "I'm having fun."

The woman leans forward and traces a hand down my chest. She's wearing a loose-fitting dress with a low top. "I'm glad," she says softly. "Every boy deserves to have fun the day he becomes a man."

Ooo, this lady is **hitting** on me. I like it. Another part of my body **really** likes it.

Lizard-lady look down at the bulge in my Egyptian-skirt-thingy and grins. "I see you're ready for a little excitement." She sits down sideways on my lap and puts an arm around my shoulders. The strap of her dress slides off her other arm, fully revealing her breast. "Maybe I can help you take care of that," she whispers into my ear before licking her lips.

A voice behind me says sharply, "He's not carrying money on him."

Miss Mipedian suddenly looks disinterested. "Ah. Well, I guess I'll see you around." Then she stands up and disappears. Whoa, how did she **do** that?

Maliph grabs my shoulder. "You don't want to mess around with prostitutes around here, Michael. Especially ones like her."

"Like who?" Who is Maliph talking about? "Was I talking to somebody?"

"Yeah, you've had enough to drink," Maliph sighs as he takes away the glass I'm holding.

"But I don't drink," I say in confusion.

Maliph puts his face in his palm for some reason. At the same time, I can hear Sett's voice coming from the bar. "Remember, my forty-seventh, Rasha?" he says the the red Mipedian behind the counter.

The red lizard Rasha sighs. "I'm **Shasta**, not Rasha."

Sett doesn't seem to have heard. He climbs over the bar. "That night, it was just me and you in this room, and we made love behind this very counter."

Shasta-not-Rasha steps back. "Did you have more that you were supposed to, Sett? Your pupils are so wide that your eyes look black."

Sett grabs Shasta-not-Rasha's upper arms. "Wasn't that a wonderful night? The two of us embracing each other, you taking me into your body? Remember how we cried out in the empty room as I came with you?"

Oh dear, this sounds incredibly private. I bury my face in my arms. My cheeks feel incredibly hot.

The Mipedian to my left, I think that one is Malvadine, mutters, "Um, Maliph? I think we might have a problem."

Maliph looks over to Sett, as do I. Sett has Shasta-not-Rasha in an open-mouthed kiss. Aw, how sweet. But why does Shasta-not-Rasha look scared instead of happy? Is that the problem?

"That's not good," Maliph says as he slowly stand up. He looks around. "Was anyone counting how many drinks Sett had?"

Shasta-not-Rasha begins struggling. Sett tries to keep him from doing that. They both fall behind the counter. Moments later I hear Shasta-not-Rasha scream.

"Oh s***!" Maliph rushes to the bar, as does Malvadine. Maliph leaps over the bar and disappears for a moment, only to reappear a moment with his arms wrapped around the waist of a thrashing Sett. A thrashing, naked Sett.

Malvadine leaps over the bar and stands between Sett and the far side of the area behind the counter. "Are you okay, Shasta?" he calls out behind him.

"Y-yes," Shasta stammers as he pulls himself to his feet. "He didn't hurt me."

I stare in bewilderment. What's going on?

Maliph grimaces as he tries to keep Sett from thrashing. "I'm so sorry, we were all distracted by Michael's forty-seventh. I should have been keeping an eye on Sett."

Shasta leans on the counter and breathes heavily. "It isn't your fault," he pants, "I've lost track before too. Don't worry, he didn't manage to... you know."

This isn't fun anymore. Shasta looks scared, Sett looks crazy, and everyone in the bar is looking at them.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Tenth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**That turned sour ****_very_****quickly.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	20. The Tenth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Tenth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Prince Michael."

Did I say that out loud? I was only trying to think of how I would answer Theb-sarr's question of who I am, and that had popped in my head before I answered.

King Theb-sarr doesn't even blink at my answer, though he does take longer to look away from me that the last time I was in this situation. Prince Mudeenu, on the other hand...

"Prince?" He noisily blows air out from between pressed lips. "You don't **dress** like a prince."

Well, I'm probably dead. Still, I'm going to try to recover this one. "Do **you** dress like a prince every waking moment of every day?"

Mudeenu bares his teeth, but doesn't say anything.

King Theb-sarr leans forward on his throne and presses his fingers together. "Can you elaborate for me, please? Prince of which kingdom?"

Gah, this is almost exactly like last time I was at Underworld City. I hope my impromptu story-telling doesn't make things worse **this** time.

"It's not like it matters anymore," I say while biting my lower lip. "I'm fairly certain I'm never seeing it again."

Theb-sarr raises his eye ridges. "Never?"

Ah, I know! "Well, that's what the curse's incantation implied." I furrow my brow as if trying to remember something. "I think the verse went something like, _The sun and moon will both draw near, and half all fields will wilt and burn, then tenth of men will disappear, and none those souls will e'er return._ Something like that." I **wish** I could say I made that up on the spot, but it's actually an old rhyme I made up when I was really into theatrical poetry.

Theb-sarr blinks. "Well..."

Mudeenu scoffs, "So you can rhyme, very impressive. I still don't-"

Theb-sarr raises a hand, and Mudeenu closes his mouth. "I'll figure this out without your contributions, Mudeenu." He turns back to me. "When were you to take the throne?"

I resist the urge to take a deep breath. "I'm not the... **wasn't** the crown prince. My eldest brother was next in line. Actually, he may even be king now, today was his coronation. I do hope he's all right..."

-[]-[]-[]-

I've lasted three weeks. I don't remember how I did it. My mind is all abuzz with the various lies and cover-ups I've used. I have to spend about an hour by myself each day to get my own story straight and catch any contradictions I might make.

Everyone in the palace has doubts, I'm sure. I can't possibly have fooled everyone into thinking I'm really some prince from another world. I think the only reason I haven't been confronted yet is because nobody wants to be the one to do it. I know **I** don't want to accidentally anger royalty.

I'm paranoid, always checking over my shoulders. I feel that any moment all of this is going to come crashing down. One slip of the tongue and I can go from guest in the palace to guts on the floor.

Today is especially bad. Normally I can hear the footsteps of the invisible servants as I walk through the halls. Now it's silent, except for my own.

I discover that I'm fiddling with the edges of my robe sleeves. I force myself to stop.

It's a nice robe, a kind-of gift from King Theb-sarr. It's made of violet cloth covered with intricate geometric patterns stitched with gold-colored thread. I don't know what material the robe is made of, but it's a thin yet strong cloth. I can wear it without anything underneath and still feel comfortable. It's a little long, though, so my hands disappear into the sleeves when I put my arms down, and the bottom hem is always dragging on the ground.

I pass by the door to the throne room. The guards by the door give me a quick glance before standing at attention again. I can only see two, but with the Mipedians, you can be sure that there are a few more standing guard, watching invisibly.

I'm about to continue on my way when I hear a shout from the throne room. It sounds like Mudeenu's voice. "You can't be serious, father!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Mudeenu!" Whoa, Theb-sarr's never shouted before that I can remember. Wait, isn't Theb-sarr Mudeenu's uncle, not his father?

"Can you blame me?" Mudeenu's voice roars. "You're planning on marrying off **my sister** to that creature! Don't deny it! You have it written down right there, the only way they could be more married is if they were **sleeping** together!"

Wait, what?

Whatever Theb-sarr says, I can't hear it. I don't want to face the wrath of Prince Mudeenu when he comes out of there, so I hurry back to the room I've been staying in.

As I begin to climb the stairs to my room two steps at a time, I wonder to myself about what I heard. It couldn't mean me, right? But who else could Mudeenu have meant? All he said was "that creature." That **could** be me, but then it could be another creature. There aren't any other non-Mipedians here, though, right? And what did he mean with that last sentence? Was the marriage already legal on paper or something?

While I'm thinking these things, fate decides to give me the middle finger.

Near the top of the stairs, I step on part of the bottom of my robes. I don't notice until I try to climb that step, and when I do, I'm already stumbling. I throw my arms out to grab a handrail and miss. My shins hit the edge of a step, and I curl up a little in pain, throwing my center of balance backwards. I feel my stomach lurch as I start to fall.

Seriously? Three weeks of lying about my identity, long nights spent sleepless in anxiety, and **this** happens?

I grab for the handrail, but my sweaty hands prevent me from keeping my grip. I begin to straighten my legs so I can step back, but it only serves to throw off my balance more.

No no no, I'm not dying like **this**! You don't do what I've done and then get killed by the freaking **stairs**!

I'm falling now. My arms flail around for something to catch, to break my fall. My head is already below my feet elevation.

At least Chaor killed me last time because he didn't want me to reveal that he wasn't a god! At least my death in Kiru City last time came after an attempt at heroism! At least I died on my own terms last time at Mount Pillar! _Don't do this to m-!_

The first blow to the head knocks me unconscious. The remainder of the tumble down the stairs inflicts significant damage. I pass away before anyone can discover me.

...What a load of bullcrap, Perim.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Aftermath**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**Not every death can be dramatic or full of meaning. Sometimes fate just drops a bridge on you.**

**NOTE: There's a reason why Prince Mudeenu called King Theb-sarr "father" when "uncle" is more accurate, so no belly-aching. :D**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	21. The Aftermath

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Aftermath**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

I have a splitting headache. It feels like somebody drove a knife into my forehead and twisted it. It gets worse with bright light, loud sounds, whenever I move, and basically everything else in the universe. It isn't crippling, but Maliph and Malvadine are definitely noticing.

"You really should take the day off, Michael," Maliph insists when I flinch away from a window on the way to the soldiers' bathhouse. "You had way too much to drink last night. The dew farm is going to be torture."

I continue to struggle through my first ever hangover. "I can't take a day off," I say, wincing at the volume of my own voice. "I can't have the other foremen have to pick up the slack from **two** missing people." I pause. "Two days in a row, I mean."

Malvadine shakes his head. "You look like you're about to die."

"I'll live," I mutter.

We reach the bathhouse and enter the far left dressing room. I fumble around with with my belt buckle. My hands won't stop shaking.

Maliph and Malvadine get undressed far faster than I do. Maliph grimaces at me. "Need help getting your shendyt off?"

"Please," I sigh. I need to get bathed and dressed fast, so I can't afford to waste time.

Maliph and Malvadine end up having to help me through the entire process. Gah, I'm **never** drinking that much again.

-[]-[]-[]-

With Sett absent, all the foremen have to stay longer than normal. It's late afternoon by the time my replacement comes.

I don't immediately get out my seat. The other foreman does his job standing for a few minutes while I rest. "Had a nice forty-seventh?" he asks with a swish of his tail.

"It kind of ended on a sour note," I mutter while massaging my temples. I stand up. "You can have your chair now, I'm okay."

I don't feel like preparing myself a meal at home, so I head to a bar. The same bar as last night, in fact. I've been there with Sett so much over the past several weeks that it's kind of a habit now.

When I walk through the doorway and see the inside of the bar, I pause. Wow, there's a lot of Humans here today. Almost every chair at the far end of the bar has a Human in it, in fact, while the rest have Mipedians sitting in them. It's also rather loud.

I sit at the bar with the Mipedians and tap the table. The barmaid does her impression of a ninja appearing out of nowhere again. She looks worn out. "What can I get you," she asks in a dull sounding voice. Then her face brightens. "Oh! Hello there, Michael!"

"Hi there, um..." Gah, forgot her name again.

"It's Ashley," the barmaid says with a chuckle.

"Right, hi Ashley." I glance over my shoulder. "There's a **lot** of people here today."

Ashley gives me a frustrated glare. "There's no such thing as bad publicity," she drones.

Oh. "This would be about what happened yesterday, then."

Ashley grits her teeth and pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Everyone wants to see where the scene took place. Kind of like the people who drive by accident scenes slowly so they can rubberneck." She sighs and puts up a hand. "I'm sorry about my attitude, right now. I just delivered a drink to one of the Humans in the back, and my butt got pinched and grabbed four times on the way there and back."

"Perverts," I mutter. I don't know if she heard me over the ambient noise.

Ashley sighs again and presses her lips together. Then she puts on that bright face again. "Enough about me. What can I get you?"

"I'm actually ordering dinner this time," I say. "I'd like a steak, medium."

"What kind of steak?" Ashley asks.

I smirk. "Whichever kind tastes most like a cow. Oh, and a fresh kainekot brandy."

Ashley laughs and heads behind the counter to tell Shasta my order. I lean forward and rest my arms on the counter.

"Were you here yesterday?"

I almost jump out of my skin. "Gah!"

There's a Human man standing behind me. Is **everyone** taking ninja classes? The man steps back. "Whoa! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

I take a few deep breaths to slow my heart down. "Yes... I was here."

The man turns and heads for the back of the bar. "Can you come with me?"

I follow the man to one of the corner tables and sit down. He's with about ten other men and women. One woman leans forward and asks, "Can you clarify a few things about yesterday for us?"

I bite my lower lip. "I don't think I-"

A man to my left doesn't let me finish my sentence. "Did that drunk Mipedian really f*** the barkeeper yesterday?"

That stuns me into silence for a few seconds. "Wha-? No!"

Another man interjects, "But there was a guy telling everyone that the red Mipedian here was taking it up the a** from another Mipedian!"

These people are completely nuts. I hiss through clenched teeth, "There was an altercation, and an inebriated Mipedian had to be taken into custody. That's all."

A woman at the table lifts her index finger. "That Mipedian was thrown into prison on rape charges."

The woman next to that woman shakes her head. "No, it was **attempted** rape."

A man stands and puts his hands on the table. He asks me, "All we're trying to find out was whether the one Mipedian had sex with the other, okay?"

I throw up my hands. "That's really all you guys wanted to know?" I almost yell. "Is that why the bar's so crowded?" I put my arms back down and shake my head. "You guys are sick. I'm not telling you anything about yesterday."

"Here you go, Michael," Ashley says as she places my drink on the table in front of me. I turn to thank her, but she's already walking quickly away from the Human populated side of the bar.

"Michael?" one of the men asks. "The one from the 'Maliph, Michael, Malvadine' phrase?

Oh dear god, what now? "Yes, **that** Michael," I groan.

The man leans away from me a bit. "Oh. So you're the Human who's letting the palace guards f*** him?"

_**What!?**_ I can't even speak for a moment. I stare at the guy, jaw hanging open. Finally I almost shout, "What the heck gave you **that** idea!?"

"Every morning you go to the soldiers' bathhouse at the palace," he says. "You frequently hang out with the guards during their time off. It's easy to connect the dots."

Another man who's been staring at my face adds, "I **thought** I recognized you! I was at the soldiers' bathhouse this morning as well! Those two guards, the red one and the spiky one, were putting their hands all over you!"

"They were **helping** me!" I growl. "I was too hung over to bathe myself!"

A few people snort at that. I hear one mutter, "Yeah, right."

I stand up abruptly. I need to get away from here or I'm going to hurt someone. I storm out of the bar, fuming.

It's a minute or so later that I realize that I hadn't received my food, nor did I pay for the meal I ordered. I turn around and head back. How am I going to get in without those people noticing?

I stop worrying as I approach and see a small group of Humans getting thrown out of the bar, the same ones who had been talking to me. I wait in an alley for them to pass, the head for the bar.

Shasta is waiting at the doorway. "Ah, Michael, I thought you'd be back." He glances behind me. "I have never spoken to ruder people before."

"What happened?" I ask as I enter and sit by the counter again.

Shasta's hands tense up, and his normally soft eyes narrow into slits. "They asked me how many times Sett and I have had sex, in cruder language than that. It got worse very quickly."

I look behind me at where they had been sitting, and I notice the rest of the bar. Huh, the Humans and Mipedians seem to have mixed groups. "And the whole seating rearrangement?"

Shasta grins and leans forward. He whispers, "Well, your fellow Humans still in this bar have probably redeemed themselves in the eyes of my tribe. **They** were the ones to throw those troublemakers out."

The Mipedians **do** seem to be acting friendlier to the Humans this time around. I turn back to Shasta. "Hey," I mutter in a low voice, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Shasta mutters. "Sett isn't, though. He's horrified with himself. He's demanding to be locked up longer than his sentence. He's also furious that I'm not pressing charges."

Okay, **that's** a can of worms I'm not going to open.

Shasta glances over his shoulder to the kitchen doors. "Your food will be ready soon."

"Thank you." I twiddle my thumbs. "I... I hope things get better."

"As do I," Shasta says as he leaves.

I sigh and hang my head. Is this it? Are days like these all that's coming? Perim used to be this world of fantasy, of adventure. Now it's just a pain. I struggled through thirteen false starts to get here, and now all the life is sucked out of it.

No, Michael, snap out of it. It'll get better. Things always get better! This is Perim, nothing stays still and mundane for long here!

A Mipedian bursts into the bar. He's out of breath. "At the gate!" He gasps for breath. "It's the prince!" Another gasp. "Prince Iflar has returned!"

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Eleventh Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	22. The Eleventh Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Eleventh Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

I open my eyes.

I'm once again in Chaor's throne room. I don't have a lot of time before I bite it. At any moment, I'm going to be burned to death or something like that. I don't know it I can pull off a three week survival here like I did in Al Mipedim. Three hours, maybe, but not three weeks.

...I'm going to do something absolutely nuts.

I turn to where Chaor is sitting on his throne and shout, "Hey! Big, red and ugly!"

...What? I'm sick of this place!

Upon hearing me, Takinom finches away from Chaor. Agitos, who was already looking at me with his jaw hanging open, scrambles to the side, out of the line of fire. Chaor stares at me and...

"Hey, small, weak and puny."

What?

Chaor does **not** have the furious expression he had my last two times here. He looks... amused.

I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not.

Chaor leans towards Takinom and says, "I'm not the only one seeing this, right?"

Takinom slowly shakes her head. "You are not. A strange creature really did appear from nowhere and insult you."

"Huh." Chaor glances at Agitos. "What are you doing?"

Agitos is cowering on the other side of Chaor's throne. "You... **aren't** going to torch the intruder?"

Chaor turns his gaze to me. "I'm still contemplating that, but it would be sad to kill a creature with balls as big as his."

It takes me a moment to realize that the king of the Underworld is mistaking my suicide attempt as **courage**. Well, I'm not feeling brave anymore, Chaor. My knees are shaking.

I see Takinom flexing her fingers. "Then what are you planning?"

Chaor places an elbow on an armrest and rests his jaw on his palm. "Just make sure he doesn't go anywhere. I need to think."

A few minutes later, the doors to the throne room burst open, and a group of creatures wearing spiky red plate armor rush into the room. "Lord Chaor!" one of them cried out. "Strange creatures have appeared all over the city!"

Oh yeah, these guys.

Chaor lifts his head and blinks. "And do they bear any resemblance to our guest?" He gestures to me.

The lead spiky warrior stares at me. "Yes, they do."

Chaor smirks and waves his hand. "Standard procedure. Round them up, kill any that get violent."

The warrior turns back to Chaor. "And what of this one here?"

Chaor's face twists into a wide grin. "I think this creature would make an excellent pet."

Wait, what?

-[]-[]-[]-

The most common image people think of when they hear the word "pet" is of a dog on a leash. Also in that image may be a dog food dish, newspapers in the corner of a room, maybe a doghouse in the yard. An **Underworlder**, on the other hand, prefers pets that could potentially rip your arms off when you get close, though he's also likely to have a few relatively harmless ones.

Apparently I'm a sort of middle ground. My entire week in the Underworld has been spent by Chaor's side, and Chaor amuses himself by threatening to unleash my "fury" on various people, primarily slow servants. These threats aren't taken seriously, because really, most of the servants are larger and stronger than I am.

In this week I've seen a good deal of Underworld City. Chaor goes to watch the Underworld Colosseum often, for example. The primary entertainment is still watching creatures battling each other, except now there's an occasional human in the pits as well. Those fights don't tend to last long, with the ill-equipped humans usually experiencing violet deaths at the hands of their opponents. Chaor also attends many formal events. I wouldn't have guessed Underworlders even **held** formal events. They're mainly competitions, like jousts or contests of elemental manipulation.

Most of the time, though, Chaor stays in his palace. He has a few favorite activities. One is eating, and watching him eat has never failed to ruin my appetite. He grabs chunks of undercooked or raw meat and tears into them, and blood and other fluids get everywhere. Another is fighting. Seriously, when Chaor's bored, he'll pick a fight with anyone, even groups of creatures. His most favorite activity... well, it's a bit of an obvious one. I'll get to it in a bit.

It's late in the evening, not that you could really tell in the Underworld, and I'm in my cage in Chaor's bedroom. Yes, cage. Chaor had a human-sized pet cage made to keep me in while he's not holding my leash. It hangs from the ceiling, so every movement I make sends the whole thing swinging. It's got two metal plates, one on top and the other on the bottom, and there are bars running down from the top plate to the bottom.

Chaor had one of his many self-indulgent feasts an hour or so ago. He spent the time since then napping, of all things. No that's not his favorite activity, just wait for it. He woke up a few minutes ago and sent a servant to collect someone in particular.

And now Chaor and that someone, one of his many wives, are engaging is Chaor's favorite activity.

While Chaor's mind is otherwise occupied, my attention is on the bars of my cage. I can't just unlock the door, and the spaces between the bars are too small to squeeze through. A couple days ago, though, I discovered that one of the bars is loose. I've been trying to wrench it free ever since. It's difficult, because as I noted earlier, every movement makes the cage swing, hence why I wait for Chaor to be distracted. He'll have the cage reworked if he sees what I'm doing.

I'm twisting the bar when I hear a growl. I pause and look towards the bed. Chaor's head is resting against the wall. His eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open, and another growl escapes his throat as he exhales. His hands are gripping the sides of the other creature's head, which he's moving up and down between his legs, forcing her to suck. False alarm, Chaor's just enjoying some head. When did I get all nonchalant about that anyway?

Minutes later, and finally some progress! I've bent the bar to the point that it rattles when I shake it!

"On your knees," I hear Chaor growl. I hear shifting on the bed behind me, then a loud gasp.

Can I wrench this bar free in the time I have left? I'll have to, try and now's the time to do it. As the ruckus behind me gets louder, I plant my feet against the bar and push, kicking occasionally to hurry things along. I see a gap appear at the top of the bar. Wider, wider... and the bar slips out of its top groove and bends outwards.

The gap I've made is still not enough to squeeze through, but that wasn't what I was aiming for. I pull the bar from its bottom groove and lay it flat on the floor. Now all I need to do is wait.

Now that I'm not focusing on the cage bar, it's really hard not to watch. Chaor is violently thrusting himself into the other creature from behind, his claws holding her hips steady. The woman drags her fingernails across the bedsheets and grits her teeth. Chaor bends forward, opens his mouth, and bites his partner's shoulder, still pounding away inside her.

I try to press down the bulge in my pants. I don't want to be aroused by this. I close my eyes and cover my ears, but it's not quite enough to block everything. I still hear Chaor's grunts, his partner's subdued cries of pain, the shaking of the bed. Minutes later I hear a feral roar, and then the sounds begin to die down.

I open my eyes to see Chaor taking a few slow deep breaths. He pulls himself out of his partner and lays down on the bed. "You may go," he says to his wife with a dismissive wave.

Wow, Chaor, you **really** know how to make a woman feel special. Yup, absolutely no sarcasm intended, not **one** bit.

When the woman leaves, Chaor turns his attention to me. "Oh, don't worry, pet," he sneers. "I'll find a mate for you eventually."

Time to put my plan into action. "No thanks. Watching you go at it is a bit of a turn off."

Chaor blinks in surprise. I don't talk back to him very often. "Ah, so this is one of the days you decide to talk, hm?" He swings his legs to the side so that he's now sitting on the bed. "Why so talkative now?"

I dramatically roll my eyes. "I don't know, maybe I just had enough of holding everything back." I lean back to hide the broken cage bar. "You know, I thought that the lord of the Underworld would be impressive, but these past few days have shown me how lame you are."

**That** looks like it stung his pride a little. He narrows his eyes. "I'll give you ten seconds to think of a way to convince me not to break you into little pieces," he growls menacingly.

My heart's pounding. I'm not going to enjoy what's going to happen soon. "By the way, Chaor, you have a small penis."

That was a lie, a rather big lie too, but it got the reaction I wanted. Chaor leaps to his feet and storms to my cage. "You're going to regret that," he fumes. "I'm going to-"

I grab the broken bar and thrust it through the gaps in the cage at Chaor's face. The metal bar sinks into Chaor's eye. The king of the Underworld staggers back, clutches his face, and **_roars!_**

I'm so dead. Of course, that was the plan.

Chaor lowers his hands and stares at them with his good eyes. I see blood streaming down his face. His other eye is an absolute mess, shredded and peeled, and mixed with the blood is a transparent ooze. I almost vomit on seeing the damage.

Chaor bellows again and clenches his fists. He swings an arm at my cage, and his fist glows with energy the moment before it connects with the bar.

The cage bends like rubber under the force of Chaor's blow. The punch is heading toward my face.

Did I forget to mention how much I hated being Chaor's pet? Well, **I hated being Chaor's p-**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Crown Prince**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	23. The Crown Prince

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Crown Prince**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

I already have some impression of what Prince Iflar looked like from his card in the game. Seeing a card image is **very** different from the real thing, though.

Prince Iflar almost looks albino. His thin muscular body is covered in stark white scales, he has six, maybe more long horns crowning his head, and his narrow eyes are pale blue. His claws, however, are a grayish-blue, and holy crap, I'd never noticed before on the card that Prince Iflar had **hair**. Long, dark brown hair! On a Mipedian!

Iflar is wearing a sort of blue metal armor with golden trim and studded with sapphires. It looks more ceremonial than practical, but as the prince walks by I can see nicks and cracks in it. This armor has definitely been worn into battle.

Iflar steals a few glances at the crowd as he walks. He doesn't look surprised by the Humans who have come to see him, and soon I see why. Following the prince is a procession of creatures, and a few of them are Humans. Everyone looks beat up and exhausted, and many of the Humans are thin, like they had little to eat for a long time. Their faces are all bright, though, as if coming here was the best thing to happen to them ever. Which, well, might actually be the case.

Oh, crap, the Mipedians are bowing. I bow as well.

"Iflar!" a joyful voice booms from the palace gates. King Theb-sarr strides out of the palace with a wide grin and arms spread wide.

Prince Iflar's pace quickens, and the two royal Mipedians collide and embrace. "Hello, Father," Iflar's rough voice greets.

Theb-sarr sounds like he's choking back tears. "It's so good to finally see you again."

Iflar releases his hold on his father and drops to one knee. "Father, I beg your forgiveness for being away longer than expected. Forty days ago my team stumbled across a crude settlement during our return here."

Theb-sarr glances at the Humans in the group Iflar had brought. "I take it these Humans you brought with you are the people of that settlement?"

"What?" a growling voice shouts from the palace. Prince Mudeenu appears through the palace doors. "Please don't tell me **more** Humans are being brought to Al Mipedim!"

Iflar presses his lips together, closes his eyes, and takes in and lets out a deep breath. "**Yes**, Mudeenu. I have brought these Humans with me. They would have died out in the desert if we hadn't come along."

Prince Mudeenu storms up to the other two royals. "Oh, and instead of leaving then to their own devices, which you **should** have done, you decided to herd the pests to the capitol city?" Mudeenu glares at the Humans that Iflar took with him. "We have enough of that trash as it is, Brother."

I hear murmurs spread through the gathered crowd. Prince Iflar raises his lips and bares his teeth before leaning forward and pushing his muzzle into Mudeenu's face. "I'd expect **you** of all creatures to recognize how powerful a force a helping hand can be. I will do what I deem is **right** to do." Iflar leans further forward, forcing Mudeenu to take a step back. Iflar laces his voice with vemon as he growls, "Do you understand, **Cousin**?"

Mudeenu's eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to speak. Theb-sarr steps forward and places his hands on Mudeenu and Iflar's chests. "Both of you, stop it," he says as he pushes them apart. "The time for discussion will come later." He places his hands on Iflar's shoulders. "What's important is that you are finally with us again, even if it is a month later than planned."

Theb-sarr turns to the crowd. "Tonight is a glorious night, my people! When the sun drops below the horizon tomorrow, the palace grounds will be ready for a grand celebration, and everyone may attend!" He grabs Iflar's hand and raises it to the sky. "To Iflar!"

"To Iflar!" I shout, along with just about every Mipedian in attendance.

The crown prince bashfully nods to the crowd. "My thanks for your... energetic welcome, though I fear my ears may need to recover from your cheers."

The crowd laughs, and Iflar and Theb-sarr turn to the palace and walk inside, with Mudeenu following them in a huff.

-[]-[]-[]-

After the excitement about Iflar's return dies down, everyone's focus turns to the Humans that had accompanied him. There were many questions, such as how they had survived on their own and whether the journey had been hard. I, however, am looking for one Mipedian in particular. Maliph and Malvadine will be guarding the prince, so...

"Ah, Michael," Shasta exclaims when he sees me. "Imagine that! Prince Iflar arriving with a village of Humans! Sett really should have been here to see this."

I step next to Shasta and lower my voice. "How long exactly is Sett's sentence?"

Shasta grits his teeth. "With my refusal to press charges and Sett's record of service, it should only be a day, but he told me he refuses to leave."

"Are we allowed to visit?" I ask.

Shasta slowly nods. "I think employees are allowed to visit the inmates. It will have to wait until the morning, though."

I nod. "I'm going to convince Sett that punishing himself isn't going to help. Besides, he needs to welcome the prince back."

Shasta grits his teeth again. "Good luck. You know as well as I do that it's nearly impossible to change his mind."

I shake my head. "Shasta, Sett's not just punishing himself about what happened yesterday."

Shasta hangs his head. "I know..." He straightens up again. "Well, then there's something I can give you. It should help you convince Sett to give himself another chance."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Twelfth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	24. The Twelfth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Twelfth Time**

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I open my eyes and immediately race to the edge of the roof, crouching low the the ground as I approach the woman hanging there. I stop a couple feet away, lay on my stomach, and grab a hold of her arms.

The woman is no longer falling, but **dang**, she's got a set of powerful lungs on her. She's screaming and wailing as loud as she possibly can. "Pull me up! Pull me up!"

I shout back, "I can't! There's nothing for me to brace against!" That's what made me fall last time I was here, trying to pull her up.

The woman is screaming again. "Oh my god! Please! Someone help!"

"Someone will come!" I shout. "Just stay calm!"

The woman screams **again** and starts kicking her legs. I feel myself sliding. "Stop kicking!" I bellow. "You'll get us both killed!"

The woman's body goes rigid, and she starts sobbing. "Oh please, somebody help, please!"

I know I should be worried for her safety, but all I can think about now is how long it's going to take before Frafdo or another creature gets to us.

Oh dear god, I just looked down. Gyah, somebody please come quickly!

-[]-[]-[]-

It's a long time before anybody comes. I feel my fingers cramping up, and my shoulders hurt horribly, but I am not letting this woman go until she's safe.

"Found another two," a screechy voice says, "top of the palace." I feel the woman's weight disappear, and Frafdo carries her to a safe place on the roof. Frafdo speaks into a crystal, "One was in danger of falling off. She's not in danger anymore."

I scramble away from the edge. Frafdo looks at me quizzically.

"Good," says a deep male voice from the crystal. Maxxor's voice. "Check for weapons, then bring them down."

Frafdo slips the crystal into his belt and turns to face the woman, who is staring up at him and trembling. Frafdo crouches and says, "If you make any sudden movements, I have to assume you're attacking me."

The woman opens her mouth and screams in terror. Frafdo staggers back and holds the sides of his head.

Well, this may take a while.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm safe on the ground at the plaza where everyone is being held. I did **not** pass out this time, thank goodness, but I'm still shaky. I don't have time to relax, though. I need to find somebody.

I make my way through the crowd. None of these faces are familiar. I can't even ask whether anybody has seen who I'm looking for. We're all strangers here. I begin to worry that I'll never find him.

"Get your hands off me, you f***ing aliens!"

**That** makes finding him a ton easier. I rush to the sound of the man's voice. He's shouting at the top of his lungs while trying to wrestle away the pyroblaster of a lone soldier.

Oh no you don't. I run up to the man and clobber the side of the man's head with my fist. He crumbles sideways to the ground. He looks dazed for a couple seconds, then tries to sit up, but the Overworld soldier forces him to lie down again by pressing the barrel of the pyroblaster against the man's chest.

The soldier glances at me. "Thanks," he mumbles.

"Not a problem," I say as I examine my hand. Ouch, the skin of my middle finger's knuckle is split.

The man on the ground moans. "What the hell...? What hit me?"

I shouldn't say anything, I really shouldn't, but I'm feeling mean right now. "Apparently some kind of alien robot drone collided with your head and injected a microchip through your skull. The alien here," I gesture at the Overworlder, "told me that the microchip will fry your brain if you become violent again."

The man pales. The Overworld soldier gives me a befuddled look.

I look at the Overworlder. "I think it's a smart idea, really. Frees up the alien to attend to other matters while the microchip supervises."

The Overworlder's eyes light up as he catches on. "Well, thank you. We've never received compliments about that particular weapon before." He raises pyroblaster and nods to the man lying on the ground. "Now stay out of trouble."

The poor man stays very still on the ground. I'll have to find a way to break the truth to him, but for now, I just want to watch him squirm.

...Am I the bad guy right now?

-[]-[]-[]-

Sometimes life decides to go easy on you. It leaves little pleasant surprises in your path. Other times it decides to give you a hard time by leaving pitfalls. And occasionally life decides to grind your face in the dirt.

It's been three days or so after we arrived in Kiru City. We're finally being released after Maxxor determined that we weren't a threat. At least we were treated well in captivity, with three meals a day and relative privacy. True, many Overworlders came to look at "the strange new creatures", but that's really to be expected.

I was wandering the roads when life had one of those face-grinding decisions. The outer wall of Kiru City cracked and came tumbling down.

I'm now pinned under a mass of broken stone. My leg feels like it's on fire. Probably broken. I feel pressure on my back, and a creature comes into view from above me.

A Mipedian. There's a Mipedian inside Kiru City, and he came in via knocking the walls down. His scales are yellow with a hint of orange, and he;s wearing a tatter red cloak.

Oh crap. He's a conjuror.

The conjuror turn around and looks at me. The pupils of his yellow eyes are shrunk to the size of pinpricks, and his tongue is hanging out of his mouth. He's wearing a necklace made out of teeth, and there are golden bracelets on his wrists. Aside from the cloak, necklace, and bracelets, the Mipedian is also completely naked. I've never seen this guy on any Chaotic card, neither in the show.

The conjuror spreads his arms at me. "Isn't this wonderful?" he asks with a blood-curdling laugh. "I've succeeded where every other Mipedian before me has failed! I've penetrated the outer wall of Kiru City!"

Yes, the conjuror is scary as hell, but I know it wasn't the conjuror who knocked the wall down.

I hear a mighty roar. The ground shakes until the sound dies.

**That** is what knocked the wall down.

The Mipedian raises his arms and cheers. "Come, my child! Let us wreck havoc upon the Overworld!" There's insane glee in his voice, and he skips away with a bone-chilling laugh.

A shadow blocks out the sun. I can't maneuver to see which enormous creature, which warbeast, is entering the city. All I know is that its foot is above me and coming down fast. It presses down on my body, large enough to completely cover me.

I pass out from the pain is less than a half second. I'm nothing but a smear by the time the warbeast steps off a moment later.

Huh, that face-grinding was more literal than the ones life usually hands out.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Pains of the Past  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	25. The Pains of the Past

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Pains of the Past**

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_**Time 14:**_

The sun isn't up yet. The streets appear to be empty. The moon is hanging in the sky, casting a pale glow on Al Mipedim. I walk down the road to the prison. Under my arm is a stack of paper tied up with twine.

I'm not dressed for the cold night. Instead of a body covering cloak, I'm wearing my usual daytime shendyt. The hair on my body is standing on end, and shivers shoot through my body. This is good, though. It keeps me alert, makes me move faster through the night. It will also be useful later.

I arrive at the doors to the prison. There's a lone visible guard, though you can never take the Mipedians at face value about their numbers. The guard **is** properly dressed for the cold, with a long thick cloth wrapped around his body, leaving only his face and hands exposed.

The guard moves his weapon to cross the door. It's a symbolic gesture, of course. The door is likely locked anyway. "We are not taking visitors at this time," the guard says.

I stop walking and turn to the guard. "I would like to visit my friend and employer Sett."

"It is too early," the guard says with a shake of his head. "Return at dawn if you wish to visit."

I bow. "Very well." Then I continue to stand in front of the prison.

It takes several seconds, but the guard finally makes a comment. "You're still here."

"I'm waiting for the prison to be open to visitors," I respond politely. I resist the urge to fold my arms to combat the cold.

The guard blinks. "You could wait at your home."

"I could," I say without moving.

A few minutes later, the guard sighs. "The inmates need to sleep, sir. You can return later when the sun rises."

I glance at the guard. "I'll be fine right here." Then I raise an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that Sett is actually asleep?"

The corners of the guard's eyes twitch. He tilts his head to the side and hisses something, too low for me to here. I hear the click of a lock, and the door opens and shuts, apparently on its own.

Okay, any moment now. I clench my teeth to stop them from chattering.

There's another sound of a lock clicking, and the door once again opens and closes. The visible guard's head twitches a little, and his eyes drift to the side. "I see..." He focus returns to me. "It seems that Sett is indeed awake. Still, I can't-"

I cover my mouth and sneeze. Hmm, that wasn't one of my better fake sneezes. Oh well.

The guard's words die in his throat. "Ah, well... You really should go home..."

Okay, **now** I can act cold. I visibly shudder. "No thanks, I'll be fine out here."

The guard grits his teeth and closes his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath. After a while, he sighs. "...Seeing as the person you wish to speak with is already awake, I suppose I can let you speak with him. However, you will have to sit outside his cell. It's too early to set up the visitor's room."

-[]-[]-[]-

For the first several minutes, I simply sit on the ground outside Sett's prison cell. It's a stone room with metal bars, but otherwise it looks pretty normal inside. There's a mattress on the floor, a toilet bucket in the corner, stone table and stool set, and a small window. Okay, it's normal by **Mipedian** lifestyle standards, maybe a little minimalist by human standards.

Sett is sitting on the stool in the center of the cell, looking at me. There's an awkward silence in the air as we decide who should start first.

Sett lets out a breath and stares at the wall to his left. "Did Shasta tell you to come here?" he sighs.

I shake my head. "It was my own idea to visit you."

Sett glances at me with a raised eye ridge, then glances out his window. "You know, I think you were only let in at this time because of your standing with some of the palace guards." He turns to me and focuses his eyes past me. "Am I right?"

I glance at the guard behind me, who shifts uncomfortably. Probably a rookie, none of the other guards ever showed discomfort.

I turn back to Sett. "So, looks like your cough is gone."

"I've been well treated," Sett snorts. "More than I deserve. Someone like me needs to be sleeping against the wall with chains binding his arms up, not treated for a cough and put into a bed."

I frown. "You aren't a bad person-"

"I'm a drunkard and a rapist, Michael," Sett snaps at me. "I go to work every morning with a pounding headache and drink myself into unconsciousness every afternoon. Sometimes I have so much that I forget that Rasha's de- ...gone, and Shasta has to deal with my delusions."

There's not a lot anyone can say immediately after a rant like that. I chew on the inside of my cheek as Sett folds his arms and stares at the ground. After a few moments I say, "You could always, you know, not drink."

Sett gives me a one-eyed glare and snorts. "You've never seen a Mipedian addict go into withdrawal."

I lean forward. "Do you want to stop?"

Sett opens both eyes now. He turns his head away from me a looks at the wall. "I... don't have any control over myself. I've tried, but..."

"Sett," I interrupt, "do you **want** to stop drinking?"

Sett slowly nods. "Yes."

"You have friends that can help you," I continue. "Yes, it's probably going to be tough, but whatever you need to do, we can make sure you do it."

Sett shakes his head. "I can just ask the guards to not give me any alcohol, even if I ask for it-"

"What happened to Rasha?" I ask suddenly.

Sett's body seems to curl in on itself a little. He folds his arms over his chest and stares at the ground without answering me.

I start fiddling with the corners of the papers I brought with me. "Shasta told me that you wish he hated you. It started when you came back from the war. If you can tell me, what happened to her?"

Sett lifts his legs and wraps his arms around them so he's curled up in a ball on the stool. "She was a soldier, just like me," he says with a faraway look in his eyes. "We were part of the same squad during the... I don't even remember the war's name anymore. It was with the Overworld." Sett grits his teeth for a few seconds. "We got ambushed during the night, there was fire and ice everywhere. Rasha got up first, told me to keep low, and she opened the flap of the tent."

Sett squeezes his eyes shut, and he breathing becomes heavy. "There was a crack of lightning, one of the Overworlders had a cyclance. It hit her in the face, and she tumbled backwards. Her face... her beautiful face... it was..." Sett grabs his own face with his hands. "I should have been faster. She was still alive, lying there, missing half of... But I never learned how to control mugic, and the muges were under fire, and... It must have hurt so much. It should have been me on the ground there, dying... not Rasha..."

I let Sett cry for a while. It's a pitiful sight. This strong, powerful warrior breaking down and crying in a prison cell.

The guard hesitantly leans to me. "...The cell door is unlocked, so..."

I stand up off the ground, pull the cell door open, and walk over to the sobbing Mipedian. I place the paper I brought on the table and put a hand on Sett's shoulder. Sett continues to sob, but it's quieter.

Eventually Sett looks up and sees the papers. He sniffs and says, "Shasta tried to give those to me several times."

"You should read them," I say, stepping away from the Mipedian. "I know you never gave Shasta a chance to explain. Rasha sent many letters to her family while the two of you were of to war. These are the important ones, the ones with things you need to know about."

Sett stares at the stack for a while. He reaches a hand forward, then pulls it away. He stares at the floor. Then he picks up the top page.

I exit Sett's cell and thank the guard. As I leave, I hear Sett choke back another sob.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Thirteenth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	26. The Thirteenth Time

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Thirteenth Time**

-[]-[]-[]-

Odu-Bathax stops a few feet away from the four of us and puts his lower pair of arms on his hips while cracking his knuckles with his upper pair of arms. "Well, well, well... What do we have here?"

The four of us back away. I deliberately move so that I'm behind the other man in our group.

Odu-Bathax's head lifts slightly as he makes a deep-chested laugh. "Come now, I want to hear you speak. I want to know how you managed to penetrate this deep into Mount Pillar without anyone noticing."

I nudge the man in front of me. He hisses, "What?"

"Talk to him," I say.

"You're nuts!" he retorts.

One of the women whimpers, "Just do it!"

The man's hands are shaking as he looks at Odu-Bathax. He takes a step forward. "I... uh... we..."

Odu-Bathax's antennae twitch, and he folds both pairs of his arms. "Speak up, and speak quickly. You're trying my patience."

The human standing in front of the Danian wobbles slightly. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't- we didn't mean to come here..." He's breathing quickly, almost hyperventilating.

Odu-Bathax leans forward so his face is level with the human's. "You didn't **mean** to come here? What is that supposed to mean?"

The man I had prompted to speak to the Danian staggers back, then collapses to the ground. Did he really just faint? ...Actually, I really don't blame him.

Odu-Bathax sighs and straightens up. "Take them to the prisons," he orders the surrounding mandiblores. "We'll deal with this when we have more time."

-[]-[]-[]-

A prison cell in Mount Pillar is simply a hole in a stone wall with stone bars covering the opening. There's no door, the wardens simply manipulate the stone bars away when putting a prisoner in.

It's been a couple hours since I was thrown into one of the empty cells. In that time, Danians have been passing by, escorting more humans to other cells. This must be where they're keeping the humans not already in the know about Perim.

I shudder as I remember what had happened last time. I do not want to go through that again. I hope they don't start infecting the humans in the cells as well.

Another hour passes, and the roundup seems to be finished. The only Danians passing by seem to be on patrol rather than actively searching.

Well, prison, huh? I guess it's better than the other times.

Minutes later, I hear commotion coming from somewhere outside. There are muffled roars and indistinct shouts. A crowd of Danians appear in front of my cell, dragging a-

Holy **crap**.

The Danians are dragging a larger, tremendously muscular Danian. He's maybe three feet taller than I am. His exoskeleton is dark gray, and his eyes are bright red. He has four massive arms, with biceps the size of watermelons, and two equally massive legs. His blue leather uniform is shredded in places, his arms are bound with chains, and his mouth is covered by a thick gag.

The Danians stop dragging the insect Mr. Universe just outside my cell, and one of them looks into my cell, then turns back and shouts, "It's no use! All the cells are occupied!"

A voice coming from somewhere I can't see shrieks, "Just toss the traitor in that one! I wanted him behind bars **ages** ago!"

A Danian points at me. "You move, you die."

I sit down. The Danian warden waves his hands over the bars, and they melt away, sinking into the ground. The traitor Danian is pushed inside, and the bars reappear. Then another set of bars form from the walls, forming a cage wall made of stone.

I stare at the traitor Danian as the others hurry away. He struggles with the chains, and it doesn't take long before they simply snap off of his wrists.

The Danian tears out the gag and bellows at the bars, "The hive is corrupt and you know it! You'll see! Soon all of Mount Pillar will crumble because of the avarice of the nobles!" When nobody answers, he slumps against the wall opposite me, still looking through the bars. Then he faces me.

Oh dear God, he's looking at me! He's narrowing his eyes at me! Help!

The Danian leans forward. "Hey, maggot."

I decide that he can call me whatever he wants. "Y-yes?"

He points at himself. "Master." He points at me. "Maggot. Are we clear?"

I nod. "O-okay."

"Master" puts one pair of hands behind his head while the other pair drapes over his lap. "Good."

This does not bode well.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Hey, maggot."

I wake up with a jolt. Had I really fallen asleep?

"Maggot," repeated the Danian who called himself Master.

"What is it?" I ask drowsily. I can't keep my eyes open.

The Danian's antennae twitch. "My pillow isn't thick enough."

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them. "Your what?" I glance at my cellmate.

The Danian's blue outfit is rolled up into something that's **trying** to be a pillow. The Danian himself is lying next to it. He points at me. "Your clothes. Now."

"...What?" I blink and shake my head.

The Danian growls, "I'm adding them to my pillow. Clothes. Off."

He's serious! "That's... no. They're not going to help anyway."

The Danian stares at me. He pushes himself to a sitting position, then stands up. He takes a step towards me.

I press myself against the wall. Something bad's going to happen. If I'm lucky he'll just snap my neck.

The Danian approaches until he's standing over me. He reaches down, grabs my leg and-

"**GAAAHHHHH!**" He broke my leg! He broke my **leg**! Just reached down and snapped it with one hand! "**AAAAAHHHHHHH!**"

The Danian straightens up again. "Clothes. Off. **Now**."

I can barely hear him over my own screams. I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from screaming. My hands shake as I unbutton my shirt. Oh God, my leg!

The Danian snatches my shirt from my hands the moment it comes off. "Those too, maggot," he orders, pointing at my pants.

My hands tremble as I undo my pants button and pull down the zipper. I try to pull them down, but moving my leg even the slightest bit is too much. "I-I can't," I say through my sobs. "It hurts too-"

The Danian reaches down, grabs the legs of my pants and tugs.

"**AAAAAHHHHHHHH! STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE STOOOAAAAAHHHHHHH!**"

-[]-[]-[]-

I haven't had anything to eat or drink for three days. Master keeps all the food and water to himself. He stuffs the food down his throat and taunts me by slowly drinking the water... gives me the empty bowls and laughs...

My throat hurts. My mouth is dry. Swallowing is painful. I have a horrible cough and a headache that flares with each cough. My lips are cracked and bleeding. My legs are inflamed, bones broken. My left arm is also broken. I hurt so much...

"Maggot," a faraway voice says, "I've got some water for you."

I hear a clunk as a bowl hits the ground near my head. I don't reach for it, it's empty anyway.

"Heh," chuckles the faraway voice. "You've wised up, I guess." I feel something touch the top of my head. "...I do have something for you to drink, actually."

...Is he running his fingers through my hair?

Three hands hold my torso. The pain in my limbs flare as my body moves. Now I'm sitting on Master's lap.

"You'll need to work for it, though," the voice says with a laugh. "But first..."

Something grabs my good arm and places it on a smooth surface. My eyes struggle to adjust. My hand is on the Danian's chest. Master moves my arm, and my hand strokes across the muscles of his chest, then down to the muscles of his stomach.

...No...

"Isn't this the best body you've ever touched, maggot?" the Danian hisses.

No no no... I know what he wants me to do.

Master moves my arm lower, between his legs. I feel my fingers brush against something, and I try to pull my hand away, but I'm too weak and he's too strong. The Danian presses my palm against his... his penis... and makes me wrap my fingers around it. My stomach churns and clenches, but there's nothing in it for me to vomit up.

The Danian laughs in my ear. "You know what to do." He slides my hand down to the base of his penis. His voice and body trembles, and he says, "You'll have plenty to drink when you're done..."

I take a deep, painful breath. I open my eyes wide and stare in the direction of "Master's" face. I open my mouth and say two words as loud as I can manage.

"...Screw... you..."

The fuzzy shape of "Master's" head tilts. "Huh?"

I clamp my hand into a fist as tight as I can, fingernails digging into the... thing... in my hand, and twist.

There's a faraway roar, and I feel my body floating in the air. There's pain as I hit the ground. I turn my head and try to focus on the Danian. He's clutching between his legs, rolling on the ground, howling. Is that blood? It is. I don't feel sorry about that at all.

-[]-[]-[]-

I don't know how much time passes. My vision is clearing up, though, and the pain is fading away. Ah, I must be dying...

My cellmate is **still** writhing on the ground. Maybe only a little time passed. I don't know, and it doesn't matter. It'll all disappear soon...

The bars of the cell disappear, and four Danians walk in. One is holding an executioner's ax. The ax raises up, then drops.

There's a sound of metal hitting flesh, then stone, and "Master's" body twitches as his head rolls away.

One Danian turns to me. He looks like a human with an exoskel... Oh. It's an infected human... "What about this one?" the former human asks.

Another Danian looks at me. "Leave him here, he's not worth the effort and resources to nurse back to health."

...Well screw you too, whoever you are...

The Danians leave. They don't put bars up. It's not like I'm a flight risk...

Breathing hurts... My head is light... Everything's going... going...

Gone...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The One at Fault**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	27. The One at Fault

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The One at Fault**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

It's the afternoon. Work at the dew farm went more smoothly than usual. Nothing like the promise of a party to improve morale. After work I headed to Shasta's bar, which is, for the first time I can remember, empty.

"You left while he was reading the letters?" Shasta asks incredulously. "You should have stayed!"

Oh yeah. Shasta's also rather upset with me.

"It, er, seemed like a good idea to let him have his space..." I mumble.

Shasta turns around and throws up his arms. "You could have given him space without **leaving**! Here I was thinking that you were intelligent!"

I bite my lower lip and cringe. "I have the same thoughts about myself sometimes."

Shasta sighs and sits back down. "I guess we have to hope what you **did** say gets through to him."

"Sorry..." I say quietly.

Shasta leans back in the chair. "Yeah... so am I. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry like that."

I can't help but crack a smile. "That was you getting angry?"

I see the corners of Shasta's mouth twitch. "Yes... it was..." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "Well, I guess it'll be easier to talk to him now when the time comes."

There's awkward silence for a while. I decide to break it. "So, no customers?"

"Actually, we're not even open," Shasta responds. "The kitchens are busy preparing for the celebration."

"Your bar is catering?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Shasta waves a hand around. "**Every** kitchen is catering. There's a whole city to feed."

"You're getting paid for this, right?" I ask.

Shasta gives me an exasperated look. "...Yes. I thought that was obvious."

I cringe. "Sorry, that just sort of slipped out." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I know you're closed, but could I maybe buy a cup of kainekot?"

"They're already packed up, sorry." Shasta stands up. "I can check what **isn't** pack up yet."

I nod. "Thanks."

Shasta heads around the counter and into the kitchens. I hear someone walk through the door. I wave my hand without turning around. "They're closed, but maybe Shasta can grab something for you."

A voice behind me says. "I want you to stand up and walk out of here."

I turn around in my seat. There's a Human in front of the doorway. He's pointing a cyclance at me.

I slowly raise my hands. "...Hi."

The Human shakes the cyclance slightly. "The only reason you're not dead yet is because I want answers. Leave the building and stay in front of me."

-[]-[]-[]-

The Human guides me into an alley. "Sit down. Back against the wall."

I sit down.

The Human steps around so he's in front of me, still keeping the cyclance pointed at my chest. It's gold in color, looking almost like a metal spear, except the point is hollow and sparking with electricity.

"My name is Robert," the Human says. "I'm thirty years old, and back on Earth I was a mechanic. I was recently divorced, and my wife took custody of the children."

I blink. "Um, hello Robert. My name is-"

Robert cuts me off. "Michael. You recently celebrated you forty-seventh birthday here, which would make you two days older than twenty-three and a half years old back on Earth."

...Huh. "How did you-?"

"I'm not finished," Robert says. "Around two months ago, however many thousand people were dropped into this world Perim. You can divide most of them into two group. First, the people who had no idea about all of this, those who hadn't watched the show or played the game. I was one of those."

Um... "And the-"

Robert interrupts me again. "The other group, the people who **did** know about Perim. You **should** have been a part of that group, judging by how you knew so much about the world when you arrived."

...I don't like where this is going.

Robert crouches down, still aiming the cyclance at me. "But you don't fit neatly into either group. Not even a day had passed since we arrived, and you'd already become acquaintances with some very important Mipedians. Maliph and Malvadine from the royal guard, Theb-sarr and Mudeenu from the royal family. Okay, I admit that Mudeenu isn't your friend, but my point still stands."

I glance between the cyclance and Robert's eyes. "Well, I'm not getting your point."

Robert grits his teeth. "You were far too calm! People have been watching you, Michael, and you're acting very strange. We discovered from the throne guard that your conversation with the king sounded rehearsed, and you bee-lined for Maliph when you saw him, like it was part of some elaborate plan."

Crap, crap, **crap!**

Robert stands up and points the cyclance at my face. "My question, Michael, is this. Did you know you were coming to Perim?"

I'm silent for a few seconds. Then I quietly respond, "Yes..."

Robert's hands clench on the cyclance. "Did you know where in Perim you were going to end up?"

My heart is pounding. "Yes."

Robert bares his teeth and hisses, "Are you the reason we're all stuck in Perim?"

I look into Robert's eyes. "No."

Robert blinks. "You're lying."

I shake my head. "I'm not."

Robert presses the point of the cyclance to my chest. "Then how did you know all of this? How did you make your plans? You have to have been the one who sent us here!"

This is not good. I can't tell the truth about what's going on. Well, actually I can, but... No, I don't know how he'll react.

...Maybe it's just time to die?

No. I'm not going to start all of this from scratch. I don't know if I'll be able to do all of this correctly a second time around.

I glare at Robert. "I can tell you this. Something about all of this **is** my fault, but I did **not** bring any of you with me to Perim."

"You're saying you're not the one who trapped us here?" Robert asks incredulously. "Bulls***."

"No, I'm saying I'm not **intentionally** doing it." Don't choke now, Michael. "If I had my way, the only Humans to come here would be the ones who **wanted** to come."

"So you **are** the mastermind behind all of this," Robert growls. The sparks around the cyclance's tip glow brighter, and I feel small shocks pass through me as several leap from the weapon to my chest.

"You aren't listening!" I shout. "I didn't **want** you here! Sometimes **I** don't want to be here either! You want to know if it's my fault? Yes and no!"

Well, that could have come out better. I clench my eyes shut. "I'm sick of having to start over every time I die..."

Robert's eyes widen. "What did you say?"

I don't get the chance to answer. A green light flies from the main road and hits Robert, and he's suddenly frozen, enveloped by a green light. I scramble sideways, away from the cyclance. The only part of Robert that moves is his eyes, which turn to watch me move away.

"Michael," a familiar voice asks, "are you hurt?"

I turn to the voice. Sett's voice. With him is Shasta, as well as several soldiers I'd seen at the prison.

"Sett!" I grin. "You decided to give yourself another chance!"

Everyone stares at me. Sett slowly says, "Well, yes, but I think we have a more pressing issue." He looks behind me. "He attacked you."

"And he's probably going to go to prison for it," I say with a shrug.

Shasta sputters, "Are you all right? You're awfully calm for someone who just dodged death."

Time to lie. "I'm feeling a little delirious, actually, but I think it will go away by the time the celebration starts. I'll be fine."

I feel everyone stare at me as I walk away. I also feel a deep pit in my stomach. It's a familiar feeling, the same as when I pretended to be royalty. It feels like my comfortable life is about to vanish, that everything's going to start crashing down at any time.

I hope I'm ready when it happens.

-[]-[]-[]-

**_Act I: Survival _****is complete!**

_**Act II: Ascension**_** is coming!****  
**

**Up next: ****The Empty Chair**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	28. The Empty Chair

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act II: Ascension**_

**The Empty Chair**

-[]-[]-[]-

My name is Michael. I am from the Human tribe, and I am a member of the species with the same name. My forty-seventh solan was two days ago.

Humans do not have a claim to any location in Perim. Instead, we live within the lands of the four native tribes of Perim. I live with the Mipedians at Al Mipedim, a city surrounding an oasis. Our leader is King Theb-sarr, an intimidating but goodhearted Mipedian royal.

Tonight the city is holding a celebration to welcome back the king's son, Crown Prince Iflar. He'd been on campaign since long before Humans appeared in Perim. The entire city is preparing for the celebration, minus a few people whose occupations don't fit in nicely with party prepping. One such person is a Mipedian named Sett, my boss and my friend. We have a lot of talking to do.

"I'd always known that death scared Rasha," Sett says as another friend of ours, Shasta, pours him a glass of fresh jaimlo juice. "She wasn't afraid to admit it. Nobody ever thought she was weak for feeling that way, either."

Shasta grins as he pours me a glass. "Because a scared soldier who still keeps fighting is one of the most powerful forces in Perim. That's my sister."

"I wish I met her," I muse as I pick up my glass.

Sett looks back down at the letters Rasha had written to Shasta a long time ago. "I didn't know **why** she was so afraid until now, though." He picks up one of the letters. "She was afraid of leaving people behind, not of dying itself. Leaving me behind... or even losing me."

Neither Shasta nor I say anything while Sett stares at the page. Sett eventually puts the letter down. "I knew she took risks to save me while we were in combat, just like I did for her. These letters, though..." Sett stares at Shasta. "She says that if one of us had to die and she had to choose, she would choose herself... Gah, I'm not doing her writing any justice."

I set down my empty glass. "Then don't try to do them justice. We've already read them."

"I know..." Sett sighs, "I just... Shasta, I'm sorry I never let you talk to me about this..."

"You know now," Shasta says. "That's what matters."

Sett picks up the last letter in the stack, the last one that had been written. "She wanted me to move on with my life if she died. She was going to tell me that before the attack interrupted. She sent you what she was planning on saying in case she didn't get to tell me..." Sett places the page down and rests his head on the table. "I should have just let you talk to me..."

Shasta and I are silent again. Sett eventually sits up and reaches for his glass. He hesitates. "There's no alcohol in here, right?"

"It's fresh," Shasta says. "Your addiction recovery starts now."

"This should be fun," I mutter as Sett drains the glass.

-[]-[]-[]-

Mipedians throw the best celebratory parties, I bet. Any party where the entire city is invited has to be the most amazing thing ever.

I'm not disappointed when I see it. The center of the party may be the palace grounds, but there's so much stuff that it's spilling into the main roads. There are performers everywhere, refreshment stands at every corner, and music everywhere.

I head for the palace courtyard. There's a Mipedian here doing a fire show, dancing around while accompanied by a magical construct made of flames. Not far away is a sword-fighting "contest," though it's a little obvious that it's staged. Across the plaza is a Mipedian selling tiny vials of fluid, though the way she keeps glancing around makes me think her wares are not entirely legal.

There's children running in the streets! Laughing and playing and looking at everything! Human and Mipedian! This is the cutest thing ever! And now various adults are running around in a panic, trying to keep their eyes on the kids. It's unlikely the Human children are living with their actual parents, so I'm glad **someone** is caring for them.

Sett, Shasta and I are moving as a group. We're making sure Sett doesn't slip up. Shasta steers Sett away from a drink stand. "Nope, not that one."

Sett grits his teeth and clenches a fist. Then he relaxes. "Sorry, I caught a whiff and..."

"We know," I say as I guide him to a different stand. "How about here?"

"How may I help you?" asks the Mipedian at the stand as we approach. He glances at me, and I see his lips press together.

Shasta and Sett place their orders, and the Mipedian turns to fill their glasses. I clear my throat, but there's no response. I say a less subtle, "Excuse me?"

The Mipedian turns around and hands Shasta and Sett their drinks. "Eight palms, please."

Sett folds his arms over his chest, while Shasta rests his arms on the table. "I take it you're only aiming for a two-thirds satisfaction rating?" Shasta says with a grin.

The other Mipedian glances at me. "I don't serve non-Mipedians."

Shasta half-closes his eyes. "I see... hm..." He picks up his drink and takes a sip. "Ah, the Black Oasis blend. Three parts kainekot fruit juice, one part lapta soda powder, one part parfkew for the bitter kick, and one part water for dilution, to combat the gag reflex brought on by the parfkew."

Shasta sets the glass down. "Your water jars in the back all have the same identifying marks, meaning that you specifically stock water from the same set of dew farms."

The Mipedian looks a little lost. "Yes. And?"

Shasta taps his glass. "There's a trace taste of copper in this drink, no doubt for the sting it adds to it. Unless the cup itself is copper, which it's clearly not, then that means your supply of water comes from the southeast dew farm wells."

"It does," the Mipedian says in an annoyed tone. "Your point is?"

Shasta gestures to me. "Meet Michael, the foreman in charge of all those wells."

The Mipedian's eyes widen ever the slightest bit. He very quickly takes my order.

"Wow," I breathe as we leave the stand. "No wonder you're a bartender."

Shasta looks very pleased with himself. "I've always wanted to show off like that."

"By the way," I add, "I'm not the only one in charge of the southeastern wells."

Sett smirks. "Let's not tell **him** that."

-[]-[]-[]-

It's a while later into the night, and the feast is being brought out. Long tables stretch across the courtyard, some trailing down to the roads. The seats are quickly being filled. The three of us may need to search a bit to find a-

"Hey! Michael! We saved you a spot!"

...Okay then. We follow the voice to a table with many of the palace guard sitting around it. Maliph is waving his arm at me. There's an empty spot between him and Malvadine.

I head over. "Hey guys. Any chance you can fit two more besides me?"

Malvadive looks pasts me. "Ah, there's Sett and Shasta. Come along!"

It's a little crowded, but we all fit. "Thanks," I say.

"No problem at all," Maliph says.

We;re all immediately distracted by the food being brought out. There's... quite a bit of meat being brought out. When the serving dishes are set out, I fill my plate with a few pieces of meat that **don't** still have their faces attached.

I've never been able to handle meat that still looks somewhat like it's still alive. Those big luau pigs with apples in their mouths are an obvious example, but even something as small as shrimp makes me queasy. Fortunately, there's enough already sliced meat that I can ignore the whole-cooked meats.

We can see the royal's table from here. I see four Mipedians and an empty chair. I nudge Maliph and ask. "Who's that over there?"

Maliph raises an eye ridge for a moment. "...Oh! Right, you haven't met the entire royal family. Obviously you know our King and Prince Mudeenu, and you saw Prince Iflar yesterday. The woman beside Iflar is Princess Isis."

"His wife?" I guess.

Malvadine chokes on a piece of meat for a moment. He hits his chest and says, "His sister, not his wife. Why would you think that?"

I roll my eyes. "Royal marriages in Earth's past. Lots of inbreeding."

Sett puts down the meat he was about to put in his mouth. "**Thanks**, Michael, for that lovely thought."

I shrug. "Sorry." I tilt my head to the royal's table. "And the empty chair?"

Maliph chews on his lower lip a moment. "Well, it's a custom for the leader of a visiting tribe to have a seat at the king's table. If the tribe leader isn't present, then the chair is left empty. Seeing as how Humans don't have a leader here..."

"Ah." I turn back to my food. "I guess it's supposed to be a sign of respect, but some Humans are going to get the wrong idea."

Shasta nods. "I've overheard some customers. Many humans assume that King Theb-sarr considers himself their king, and they don't like it. They might think that this custom is really a way to emphasize how they don't have a leader."

Malvadine shakes his head. "I'm sure His Majesty is figuring something out."

-[]-[]-[]-

Many minutes, maybe an hour into the meal, King Theb-sarr stands up and raises his arms. All sound dies as everyone's attention turns to him. "To my fellow Mipedians, and to our guests the Human tribe-"

There's the sound of someone snorting in the crowd. Theb-sarr pauses, then continues. "As many of you have no doubt guessed, this celebration is about more than the safe return of Iflar."

I raise my eyebrows. I hadn't guessed anything like that. Then again, he might be specifically talking to the Mipedians right now.

Theb-sarr steps to the side until he's standing behind Iflar, and he puts his hands on his son's shoulders. "Indeed. I am pleased to officially declare my son, Prince Iflar, to be the successor to the throne."

A cheer goes through the crowd. Iflar uncomfortably stands and bows.

I lean towards Malvadine and whisper, "Is this a coronation?"

Malvadine shakes his head. "It's just ceremony. Prince Iflar had to go on campaign before he could officially be named the Crown Prince. His Majesty is simply catching up."

As the cheer continues, another sound gets mixed in. It's the sound of... oh come **on**!

The cheering dies as everyone turns to look at a group of booing Humans. They become very quiet as they realize everyone knows who they are.

King Theb-sarr stares at the group, then steps around the table. He slowly walks up to the Humans, who start to cower as he gets closer. Theb-sarr stands at his full height in front of them, staring down. "...Is there a problem?"

There's a small squeak saying, "No."

Theb-sarr folds his arms. "It's one thing to disapprove of my decisions, but that is understandable. It isn't possible to please everyone. However, it's another thing **entirely** to disapprove of my decisions and then **lie** to my face about it afterwords."

Someone in the group is whimpering.

King Theb-sarr leans forward. "Please, tell me your concern."

Nobody can hear the group clearly, but they **are** whispering something. Theb-saar tilts his head, then stands.

"You misunderstand, Humans," he says with a frown. "I am not mocking your tribe with an empty seat."

"Called it," I whisper.

Theb-sarr spreads his arms. "I am merely recognizing your decision to count yourselves separately from the Mipedian tribe. As your own tribe, any Human who represents you has as seat at events like this."

More muttering. Theb-sarr raises an eye ridge. "Because one hasn't been selected." He smirks. "Don't tell me that you want **me** to choose **your** leader."

Whatever the Humans say surprises Theb-saar. He straightens up with a faraway look in his eyes. He slowly turns around, his eyes darting through the crowd, His eyes turn towards me, and his pace quickens.

Wait, what? Don't tell me that-

King Theb-sarr comes to a stop in front of me. "Michael of the Human tribe. Your fellow humans wish that the seat be filled."

Holy freaking crap. This isn't happening, is it? I look around. My companions look as shocked as me.

Theb-sarr speaks again, "I am not asking you to lead your tribe, I am only asking you to appease their desire for a symbol of leadership."

I take a breath to steady my nerves. Then I stand up. "Then I will do so." I hope I know what I'm getting into.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The View from the Top**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	29. The View from the Top

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The View from the Top**

-[]-[]-[]-

What do you do when a king asks you to eat at his table? You accept and hope that the whiplash from your life turning upside-down doesn't kill you.

This isn't actually the first time I've eaten with King Theb-sarr. That was in another lifetime, though, where I was pretending to be royalty and which ended with an accidental tumble down the stairs. Long story. Anyway, this **is** the first time I've eaten at the same table with pretty much the entire royal family.

At the far left of the table is the terrifying Prince Mudeenu. Seated with the other three royals, the lack of a family resemblance is striking. His spiky scales are rough and yellow, a common color among the Mipedians. He's wearing that black armor again. He seems to wear it everywhere. He's also wearing a blue colored cape and a gold colored loincloth. I **think** those rectangular scraps of cloth that hang in front of the crotch are called loincloths, anyway.

Surprise of all surprises, Mudeenu doesn't look happy that I'm sitting with the royals. He probably won't start anything while everyone's watching, but I have to remember that in yet another lifetime he had me beaten to death. Same long story as last time. Maybe I'll write a book about it.

To Mudeenu's right is King Theb-sarr, a large and muscular sapphire blue Mipedian that you can't stop looking at. Seriously. If Theb-sarr wants you to look at him, you're going to look at him. It's like the opposite of a Mipedian's normal invisibility. He's actually dressed for the occasion, unlike his nephew Mudeenu. He's wearing an elaborate off-white shendyt with a brilliant gold belt, and his shirtless chest is instead covered in maybe a dozen golden chain necklaces.

Theb-sarr's face is etched with concern. His official announcement of who his heir would be had been overshadowed by some complaining Humans. I'm sitting at this table as a direct result of that interruption. It was a gesture of good faith, true, but I can't help feeling like I'm also some kind of decoy or scapegoat.

To Theb-sarr's right is the Crown Prince Iflar. He has smooth, pearl white scales and a thin muscular frame. He's wearing a white miniskirt-like cloth around his legs and a similarly colored vest, both embroidered with gold thread. It's honestly not a good look, and besides, at a glance he simply looks naked. He also does **not** have hair, like I'd previously assumed. Turns out it was a wig. Go figure. Like his father, he's also weighed down with jewelry.

Iflar looks incredibly uncomfortable. I get the feeling that becoming king is something he isn't looking forward to. Or maybe he doesn't like wearing his outfit. Whatever the cause, the crown prince is not happy.

To Iflar's right, as well as to my left, is Princess Isis, who I have not seen before today. Life her father and brother, she has gem-like scales. Hers are red, though more like garnets than rubies. She has a round head with a crown of spikes, a thin muzzle, and thin golden eyes. She has a slim frame unlike the rest of her family, probably from a lack of combat experience of training. She's wearing a blue dress with a black trim. She has little jewelry in comparison to Theb-sarr and Iflar, just a couple bracelets and a necklace.

I can't tell what Isis is thinking. She's wearing her face like an expert poker player, cold and impassive. She **does** drum her fingers on the edge of the table occasionally, as if waiting for something. She's also facing slightly away from me. I can't tell if it's to distance herself from me or what.

Isis glances at me. "...You are staring."

Oops! I feel my face flush and I turn back to my plate. I pick up a piece of meat with a fork and raise it to my mouth. My elbow bumps Isis's elbow. "Sorry," I mutter.

Isis brushes her arm and looks at me. "You are left hand dominant."

"Yes," I mutter.

Isis presses her lips together. "Such is a sign of good fortune among Mipedians."

I shake my head. "Not with Humans. It used to be an ill omen in Earth's past."

"Funny how our worlds can be so alike yet so different," Isis muses. She lifts her glass and delicately takes a sip from it. She sets the glass down and asks, "So, Michael, how are you enjoying the view from the top?"

I look out at the crowd in front of us. Humans keep stealing critical glances at me before turning back to their food, while Mipedians keep shooting nasty looks that the Humans who had interrupted Theb-sarr's announcement. "It could be better," I finally say.

"Quite," Isis agrees. She lifts a small plate from the center of the table and presents it to me. "Lamba hog?"

It looks like a tiny pig cooked in pasta sauce. It even has tiny eyes. "Uh, thank you, but I'm not interested."

Isis nods and sets the plate down in front of her. "You must be incredibly uncomfortable sitting here."

"Mainly because everyone keeps staring at me," I mutter.

Isis cracks a smile for the first time. "So now you know how I feel."

"Sorry about that," I apologize again.

We eat in silence for a while. After the lamba hog is nothing but a small pile of bones on Isis's plate, she asks me, "Do you know why my father chose you?"

"Because I was the first one he saw?" I guess.

Isis opens her mouth, then pauses. "True, but not what I was going to say." She folds her arms and turns in her chair to face me. "My father has kept track of the humans that live here. You're an odd man, Michael."

I **hope** she means that in a good way. "How so?"

Isis lifts up a finger. "You can look directly into the face of authority without cowering, for one. When you were brought before my father, he assumed that all Humans would be as bold as you. This quickly proved not to be the case as more were brought before him. Most humans quake in their boots when they see him. Others display obviously false bravado."

...I decide **not** to mention that I'd already had a lot of practice with talking to Theb-sarr.

Isis puts up another finger. "Secondly, twenty-one days after your arrival in Perim, you manage to get yourself employed as a foreman at the dew farm. This is a feat even for a Mipedian. True, there may be factors that Father does not know about, but in general promotions don't come that quickly."

That **had** been weird. Sett never told me why he decided to promote me so quickly.

Isis lifts a third finger and smirks. "Thirdly, and this one is my favorite, you spent your first and only night at the palace under the bed that had been given to you. Father found that rather memorable."

I blink. "...I guess the servant told him?"

Isis nod and tucks her hand back into the crook of her elbow. "Was that action a defense against possible assassins?"

Wow, hit the nail directly on the head right there. "Yes."

Isis grins wider. "Father thought so. Why under the bed?"

"So I could kick the shins of an assailant from a hidden place if I need to." I chuckle. "I could have found a better solution than that."

"Try standing by the door on the hinge side next time," Isis says. She turns back to her plate and unfolds her arms. "You made quite an impression, more so than any other human so far." She resumes eating.

I guess the conversation is over. I turn my attention back to my food.

-[]-[]-[]-

"You were talking to the princess," Sett says quietly as I pass him on my way to an outhouse. He puts on a fake evil grin. "That means the king has to kill you now."

I shiver. "If the rest of the Humans don't do that first," I mutter.

Sett's grin disappears. "What do you mean?"

I chew the inside of my cheek. "Just you wait, Sett. Tomorrow the dew farm will have dozens of Humans supposedly looking for work. All they'll want to do is talk to me, though."

Sett huffs. "I'll take care of that. Go and do your business."

And so my fifteen minutes of fame begins. Of course, considering the circumstances, it would be a miracle if it actually **stopped** at fifteen minutes.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Paparazzi**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	30. The Paparazzi

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Paparazzi**

-[]-[]-[]-

No video cameras followed the Humans from Earth to Perim. Neither did any voice recorders. This does nothing to discourage the tide of people who want to interview me as I try to go to the bathhouse in the morning.

"How many times have you spoken with King Theb-sarr?" one man asks while holding a small crystal in front of my face.

"Twice," I grunt while picking up my pace.

Another man shoves the first man's hand out of the way and presents his own crystal. "Did you and King Theb-sarr stage the events that landed you at the royal table during the celebration?"

"No," I say curtly as I try to steer away.

A woman with what looks like a clipboard runs up beside me. "Could you enlighten us about what you and Princess Isis were talking about last night?"

"You'll have to ask her," I mutter before I suddenly turn and slip into an alley. The other Humans are still following me. This must be a bit like how celebrities feel on Earth sometimes. On days where they **aren't** specifically looking for the cameras, of course.

I'm momentarily blinded by a flash of light. I stop walking and blink away the blindness. In front of me is a man holding a glowing metal object in one hand and a metal plate in the other. The metal plate discolors until a picture of my face is visible on it. Well, Humans seem to have reinvented flash photography.

I push past the man and head for the palace. A woman runs up with a crystal and asks, "What business do you have at the palace, Michael?"

"I'm heading for the soldiers' bathhouse," I growl.

Another woman with a crystal. "Is it true that you're having sexual liaisons with members of the palace guard?"

I grit my teeth. "Those rumors are false." I can't dodge anyone anymore, they're crowding around me.

The same woman asks, "Then why do you go to the soldiers' bathhouse every morning instead of one closer to your home?"

I'm **this** close to punching somebody. I turn to face the woman, grab the crystal, and speak into it. "I got to the soldiers' bathhouse because it's open to everyone, it's free, and it's along the way to my workplace."

"But what-" begins the woman.

"I have already answered your question," I state before trying to push my way through the crowd to the palace.

A man blocks my path. "What do you want most right now?"

Seriously? "Mipedian invisibility," I snap. "Failing that, then to get to work on time."

Something scaly wraps around my waist, and I give a small shout as I'm lifted into the air by something invisible. The wannabe interviewers scatter as I appear to float over them, with large footprints appearing in the sand beneath me.

I'm lowered to the ground in front of the palace, and Maliph flickers out of invisibility in front of me. "Are you hurt?" he asks.

"Not hurt," I breathe. "You scared me, though."

Before Maliph can respond, there's another flash of light. I blink and look towards the crowd. "Say cheese," I mutter.

-[]-[]-[]-

Five hours. After I escaped from the paparazzi, that's how long it took for the first newspaper in Al Mipedim to be printed. _The Chaotic Eye_ was its name. I swear, a former player of Chaotic **had** to be the one to come up with that.

Along with the first newspaper came the first headline. Across the top of the page is printed, _Local Human in League with Royalty_? The article itself was an essay describing yesterday's events, as well as pieces of interviews with me and other people.

"Look at this," I growl, pointing at a paragraph. "Who wrote this? 'Michael placed himself in the seat reserved for the leader of the Humans during last night's celebration, a move that shows his plans to rule over the Human tribe.' This is bullcrap!"

Shasta leans over the counter to look at the page. "Here's another one. 'Michael was snatched away from reporters this morning by the invisible hands of his not-so-secret lover, Maliph of the palace guard.'" He shakes his head. "I see why you don't associate with your fellow humans very much."

Sett glares at his copy. "'Michael's employer, a Mipedian named Set, threatened to fire the Human for associating with Princess Isis, breaking their marriage vows-'" He slaps the paper on the table before finishing the sentence. "I'm going to kill somebody," he hisses. "Twenty pages of slander. Someone is working hard to destroy your reputation."

I glance through my paper for the article Sett had been reading. "They spelled your name wrong, too."

Sett gives me a one-eyed stare. "I noticed, but I thought your dignity was more important to talk about."

I sigh and lean back. "It's not that bad."

Shasta almost drops the drink he was mixing. "Not that bad? Michael, the **kindest** thing this paper says about you is that you're a scheming usurper to the throne!"

"All this stuff is so the paper can sell," I say with a wave of my hand. "Ask the next Human to enter the bar what he thinks of the paper." I stand up and head for a corner of the bar.

It's not long before a group of teenagers enter the bar, a few of them holding copies of the newspaper. They're all laughing.

Shasta hesitates before leaning over the counter towards the teens. "So... what's your opinion of _The Chaotic Eye_?"

The young man at the head of the group lets out a whoop. "It's the biggest joke I've heard since we all ended up here! You'd have to be an idiot to believe the trash in this!"

One of the young women grins. "My favorites are the two articles on page seven. One claims that Michael's actually a Mipedian in disguise, while the other says he's an Overworld biology experiment sent to spy on the king."

I bet Prince Mudeenu was the one they interviewed for **that** story.

Shasta frowns. "Well, there are probably a few idiots who **do** believe this newspaper."

The lead teen laughs. "This isn't a newspaper, it's a grabbag for rumors. It's more like _MAD Magazine_ than a newspaper."

"What's a-?" Shasta begins before the laughing crowd heads for a table.

Sett stares across the bar at me in surprise and mouths, "Humans are insane."

I nod with a grin. Now all I need to do is wait for everyone to lose interest in me and start reporting on other things.

"No such thing as bad publicity, hm?" Ashley says from beside me. "Can I get you anything?"

I fall out of my chair. "...Ashley, next you'll tell me you've figured out how to turn completely invisible."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Strange News**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	31. The Strange News

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Strange News**

-[]-[]-[]-

It has been an entire solan since **that** day, the day Humans arrived in Perim. Al Mipedim has changed since then. For every ten businesses run by Mipedians, there's one that a Human started.

_The Chaotic Eye_ died **very** quickly after its debut. It lasted barely a week before people started getting sick of the stories it was printing. When the paper ran out of things to say about me, it moved on to businessmen, soldiers, and other people of note, both Human and Mipedian. It last mistake was running a blatently fictional report of Prince Iflar and Princess Isis's supposed incestuous relationship. Prince Iflar had _The Chaotic Eye_'s printing press demolished after that stunt.

Not long after that fiasco, another newspaper sprang up called _Mipedim Mailer_. This new paper was actually informative, with information such as the current price of water and real public opinion articles about various happenings throughout Mipedian lands.

Oddly enough, there's a section in that paper that's **almost** what _The Chaotic Eye_ was. It's called Celebrity Snippets, and what sets it apart from its predecessor is that the stories it runs are only **occasionally** in poor taste. My name has popped up in that section a little more often than I would like it to, but at least the stories are **true** this time.

"Heh," Shasta snickers. "Have you seen this yet, Michael?" He turns the paper to face me and points at the Celebrity Snippets article. "'Michael's Mean Streak?' It's a story about how often you use your whip on the job."

I roll my eyes. "Only as often as people make me need to use it." I tip the rest of my kainekot brandy into my mouth and swallow.

Sett shakes his head with a sad laugh. "If they bothered to look at the other foremen, they'd realize that you're actually somewhat merciful with that whip. A better title would have been 'Michael the Mediator.'"

"That wouldn't sell," I shrug. "Shasta, I'd like a Coalition, please."

"Coming right up," Shasta says as he turns to the bottles.

"A hard one," I amend.

Shasta turns back around with a confused look on his face. "You never ask for a hard one."

"Today is the anniversary of the day Humans arrived in Perim," I say. "About time I relaxed a little."

Sett stands up. "I'll come back when you're done with it."

"Good job, Sett," Shasta praises as Sett leaves. Shasta turns back to the bottles. "One hard Coalition coming up," he says in a loud voice.

Before Shasta even picks up the first bottle, a crowd had gathered by the counter. They're here to watch the drink get mixed.

Shasta grabs one bottle, the kainekot brandy, by its neck and flips it into the air, catching it is his other hand as he grabs a bottle of parfkew juice with the first hand. He pours a quarter of a cup from each bottle into a tall metal thermos on the counters, then seals the thermos and spins it around in one hand. This gets repeated with a few more bottles.

The Coalition has a funny history. A month ago, I'd tried every single fresh drink Shasta's bar offered when I wanted to try something new. I decided to ask Shasta to mix me a drink with a bit of everything in it, and he obliged. Someone wrote to the Celebrity Snippets column about it, and suddenly everyone wanted to try it. Shasta eventually made it an official part of the menu and, by my suggestion, called it the Coalition.

Shasta pours a little from two more bottles into the thermos, seals it and juggles it. Then he undoes the cap and adds the last ingredient, water. He seals the thermos one last time and spins it on the back of his wrist before setting it in front of me.

The customers applaud his performance as I pay for the drink and open the thermos. Whew, I'd forgotten what alcohol smelled like. I take a sip. It tastes like liquified sour gummy worms mixed with grapefruit juice.

-[]-[]-[]-

Maaaybe I shouldn't have drunk the entire thermos. It hadn't occurred to me how much was in there. There's something attached to my chin. I give it a tug. Oh, right, that's my beard. I leave it alone.

"You're funny when you're drunk," Sett says from across the table, having sat back down when I was finished. "I keep expecting you to become fascinated with your hands."

"I'm not **that** tipsy, Sett," I grin. Then I mockingly raise my hands in front of my eyes and mutter, "Whoa... these things are awesome..."

Shasta claps a hand over his mouth as he holds back a snort. "You're too much sometimes. You know that, right?"

I nod with a wide grin.

"Hey," a voice somewhere in the bar says, "you wonder what kind of things Michael says when he's drunk?" Aw hell, it's a reporter.

Sett looks to his left. "You want me to scare them off?"

I shake my head slowly. "I can handle 'em..." I turn to the voices. "You guys had a question?"

There a man and a woman. The man take a crystal out of a pouch handing from his belt and holds it out to me. "Well, um..."

The woman raises a hand to quiet the man, then leans forward. "You're single, correct?"

"You asking 'cause you're interested?" I grin.

The woman laughs. "Well, my question is, what are you looking for in a partner?"

"I'm not really looking for anyone right now," I say as I lean back in my chair.

The woman scribbles something down in her clipboard. "And why do you say that?"

"It's only been a solan since **that** day," I elaborate. "I think I'd like to settle down for more 'n six months before I try to hook up with someone."

"I see," the woman says as she writes for in her clipboard-thingy.

"You know who **is** looking?" I smirk. "Maliph. Poor guy's too busy to spend time searching, though."

"Oh," the woman says, sounding only half interested.

"I'm telling all the ladies out there, Maliph would be a good find for you." I spread my hands a bit more than a foot apart. "He's got a penis about **this** big that he wants the share."

The woman's face turns bright red, and the man almost falls out of his chair laughing. "Th-thank you, Michael," the woman says as she stands up. "I wish you a good day."

"Michael..." Shasta says quietly while Sett howls with laughter, "did you **really** just say that?"

"Yup," I chuckle.

Shasta glances out of the door. "And are you aware who was just about to walk in?"

I turn to look at the door. The man who'd been talking to me earlier is laughing even harder at the woman, who's blushing even brighter as she walks by a large red Mipedian. The Mipedian, Maliph himself, is staring at me with a mortified expression.

I raise my empty thermos. "I'll see you in the news!" I turn to Shasta. "How drunk can you get me before he starts beating me up?"

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm taking a day off work today. My hangover is killing me, and Maliph's shoulder-punch greeting was a little harder than normal yesterday.

I head to the newspaper stands. I have to see what they put in Celebrity Snippets this time. I doubt they'll actually mention Maliph by name-

The headline on _Mipedim Mailer_ is such a shock that I feel my lungs seize up. Emblazoned across the top of the page in capital letters are the words "Chaor Takes Leader of Underworld Humans as Wife."

I quickly pay three palms for the newspaper.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Uproar**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	32. The Uproar

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Uproar**

-[]-[]-[]-

"The Humans in the Underworld had a leader?"

"Chaor **married** the leader of the Underworld Humans?"

"Who's Chaor?"

"He let the Humans have a leader?"

"It has to be some sort of political thing."

"Chaor's a king, right? Does that mean his wife's a queen now?"

"You don't think King Theb-sarr or Prince Iflar will try to marry whoever **we** choose as our leader, right?"

"We should choose a male leader to keep that from happening."

"You think that will stop them?"

"Do we know who this woman Chaor married is?"

"Do we even know that she's in fact a woman?"

"Who's Chaor? Seriously, I don't know."

"Wasn't Chaor attracted to young boys?"

"Only in every fan fiction that pairs him and Kaz. I don't think those apply here."

"Who's Kaz?"

"Maybe this is another _The Chaotic Eye_ thing."

"It's not made up."

"How's the royal family reacting to this?"

"You think they care?"

"Prince Mudeenu was flipping the f*** out about it. I think they care."

"Prince Mudeenu flips out over everything."

"I **did** say 'flipping the **f***** out,' right?"

"Chaor's trying to control the Underworld Humans with this, right?"

"How powerful is this leader?"

"He's **how** tall?"

"That's going to be one painful honeymoon."

"Gross! Why are you even thinking about that?"

"I don't understand. Does this mean the Underworld Humans are Underworlders now?"

"How did _Mipedim Mailer_ even **get** this information?"

"Maybe they bought the article?"

"The Underworld Humans had a leader before us?"

"We've been twiddling our thumbs about it. I'm not surprised they were first."

"The poor woman's going to die the first time they have sex."

"Did we not **just** tell you not to talk about that?"

"Could someone just draw a picture of him or something? I still have no idea who everyone's talking about."

-[]-[]-[]-

I have **never** seen Shasta's bar packed so full before. It's not only the bar, every public place where people usually meet with others is packed full of people, both Human and Mipedian, and everyone's talking about the article in _Mipedim Mailer_.

Sett looks over my shoulder. "So **this** is what everyone's been talking about. I'm not sure I know what to think about it."

"Neither does anyone else," I mutter as I read through the article. "I want to believe that it's just a rumor, but there's a lot of exact information in here. Time of day the ceremony started, important guests in attendance, things like that."

Shasta passes by Sett and me on his way to another customer. "Political marriage?"

"Sounds like it," I say as I read further. "Hm, Queen 'Lilth'... that doesn't sound like a Human name."

Sett shakes his head. "When a common creature marries into royalty, he or she is typically given a royal name. The only creatures who don't do that are the Danians."

I look around. "Well, it looks like the Humans here will be hurrying to find a leader soon. I wonder how he or she will be selected."

"How were leaders normally selected on Earth?" Sett asks.

"Depended entirely on which country you were in," I sigh. "In the United-"

My train of thought is derailed by a scream from further down the counter. Everyone's eyes turns to see a woman scrambling out of her seat as a black fog erupts from the shadows under her chair. The shadows twist is the air into a ghost-like shape, and three holes appear at the top of the shape; two smaller ones like eyes, and a large one underneath like a toothy mouth.

The creature made of smoke stretches two arms ending in four-fingered hands while yawning, its vaporous mouth stretching wide. Then it turns its gaze on the woman whose shadow it had appeared from. Its mouth opens again, and a hollow voice echoes, "Ooooo, did I scare you?"

The woman shrieks and throws a glass at the creature. The glass passes harmlessly through its smokey body and shatters against the wall opposite.

The creature made of smoke laughs, its voice echoing in its throat. "Ooooo, that tickled."

I stand up, push my chair aside, and take a step toward the creature. "Why are you here, Drakness?"

The creature, Drakness, turns its gaze to me. "I do not recall giving you my name, Human. Ooooo, you must be one of the Experienced, one of the players of that game back on your world." The creature laughs again, and its body ripples. "You're a brave soul to speak with an Underworlder."

The crowd gasps, and several people step away from Drakness. I take another step forward. "You did not answer my question." I'm not scared. The Underworlder won't start trouble while **this** outnumbered.

"Ooooo," the ethereal creature breathes, "I simply came to bring you Humans the news, but it seems the news arrived before I did." He drifts closer to me. "Isn't it unfair that you know my name, while I don't know yours, ooooo?"

I grit my teeth, but press my lips together so I don't show it. "Michael," I say.

The smoke in Drakness's form seems to billow out a bit. "There are several Michaels throughout Perim. Ooooo, there **is** one you might be. 'Maliph, Michael, Malvadine.'"

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "I didn't know Underworlders followed Mipedian memes."

"Ooooo!" Drakness looks quite pleased with himself. "I've stumbled across a celebrity!"

"Oh dear God," I mutter under my breath. Then aloud I say, "Well, what are you still hanging around here for?"

"There's more to it than you Humans know," Drakness shivers. "You see, legally, all of you are now my lord Chaor's subjects. Ooooo."

A jolt shoots through the crowd, and everyone starts whispering. My hand drifts down to the whip tied to my belt. "I don't think we are. We live in Al Mipedim. You live in Underworld City. There's quite a distance between here and there."

"Queen Lilth is the ruler of the Humans," Drakness laughs. "Her union with King Chaor binds our tribes together, ooooo, the Underworld with the Human, both those living in Underworld City and those dwelling away."

I slip my whip out of its bindings and flick it. Its end ripples through the air and snaps exactly between Drakness's eyes. The shock wave makes Drakness's form tremble, but the Underworlder itself doesn't flinch.

Drakness rolls its shoulders and flexes its fingers. "I wonder what King Theb-sarr thinks, all these Underworlders in his kingdom. Ooooo." And with that last echoing laugh, the Underworlder's smokey body dissipates and vanishes.

-[]-[]-[]-

"I can't **believe** you scum!" Prince Mudeenu roars as he bursts out of the palace. He looks out at the crowd of Humans in the courtyard, shaking a paper in his hand. "You're requesting to become Mipedians? You want your tribe bound to ours?"

King Theb-sarr appears through the doors and grabs Mudeenu's shoulder. "Mudeenu! Stop!"

Mudeenu spins around and slaps Theb-sarr's hand off. "A whole solan of refusing our rule, and suddenly they wish to be Mipedians!"

"Because they don't wish to be Underworlders, Mudeenu!" Theb-sarr roars. "Would you rather a thousand of those in Al Mipedim?!"

Mudeenu roars back, "If Chaor wants the Humans that badly, why don't they scurry off to him?"

Theb-sarr hand moves too fast to see, wrapping around Mudeenu's neck and lifting him into the air. The Mipedian King bellows, "Prince Mudeenu, born son of Prince Kahad-sarr! Do **not** make me regret taking you in after the death of my brother!"

With the same motion that a Human would make to lightly toss a ball, Theb-sarr flings Mudeenu into the air and over the stairs. Mudeenu tumbles to the ground at the bottom of the stairs, then scrambles to his feet.

Theb-sarr slams his feet as he descends the stairs. "Your xenophobia, your prejudices, your hatred of everything that disagrees with you! You will ruin us, Mudeenu!"

"I-" Mudeenu begins, but he stops when Theb-sarr raises his hand.

Theb-sarr looks out at the crowd of Humans. "I understand your concern," he says. "I want to help you. Chaor has limited my options, though. Simply choosing a ruler for yourselves could be seen as an attempt to break away."

Nobody in the crowd speaks, but they don't need to. King Theb-sarr is doing all talking right now.

Theb-sarr turns and ascends the stairs. "I will not choose your leader for you. You will choose your leader for yourselves, and then I will take the steps needed to ensure the Underworld doesn't retaliate against you." At the top of the stairs, he turns to face us. "Time is against you, against all of us. You have five days to choose a ruler, someone to be adopted into Mipedian royalty. Choose well."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Search Begins**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	33. The Search Begins

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Search Begins**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Will you be announcing your run for the position this evening?" a reporter asks while holding one of those recording crystals in my face.

I push the crystal away. "I'm not entering the race at all," I say for the twentieth time since last evening.

"Everyone expects you to, though," the man persists. "You're the Human most involved with the Mipedian community, you have been ever since the very first day in Perim! Four months ago you were singled out by King Theb-sarr himself to sit at the royal table!"

"That's a lot like sending Harrison Ford into space because he was so awesome playing as Han Solo in Star Wars," I reply, "Or recruiting Shia LeBeouf to fight an attacking robot army because he played as Sam Witwicky in Transformers."

The man hesitates. "Well, the difference here is that you're famous for actually **doing** the things the job would entail, rather than simply acting things out."

I admit, my analogy wasn't perfect. "I'm still not running. I don't think I'm the best guy for the job."

"What **would** convince you to run?" the man asks.

I roll my eyes. "I'll announce my candidacy only if I'm a better fit for the position than everyone else running."

That seems to satisfy the reporter, and he disappears into the crowd.

It's the afternoon of what is technically the second day of the search, and so many people have put forward and then withdrawn their candidacy that there's no way for the _Mipedim Mailer_ or any other newspaper to keep up to date. I've been interviewed several times, and my answer has been pretty much the same each time, minus the last time. That last sentence was new, but then it was answering a new question.

Something taps my shoulder. Ugh, another person. "I've already told you guys-"

"Calm down, it's me," Shasta says. "I've got your drink."

"Thanks," I say. "Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," Shasta says as he looks out at the crowd. "You're good for business. Everyone's working up quite a thirst with all the interviews."

"I'm glad my presence is turning out such a profit for you," I drone.

Shasta stares at me. "You know, you can leave if you're going to be sarcastic."

I give myself a mental slap in the face. "Sorry, I'm just tired of everyone expecting me to make a grab for the spot King Theb-sarr has put in the royal family. Do **you** think 'Prince Michael' would be a good ruler?"

"Your name wouldn't actually be 'Prince Michael,'" Shasta notes. "His Majesty would likely give you a royal name-"

I have to resist the urge to hit the counter with my head. "Just answer the question, Shasta."

Shasta closes his mouth for a while. "...You'd make a good figurehead."

"What?" I ask. "And I know what a figurehead is, I mean what do you mean?"

Shasta leans on the counter. "You'd make a good symbol for Humans. You're easy to recognize, you have a history with the royal family already, and if necessary you can make difficult decisions."

"I can't make those kinds of decisions every single day," I mutter.

"Don't you already at the dew farm?" Shasta shrugs. "It's not like you'd be in charge of dealing with every single difficulty Humans have, just the ones that our King feel you should handle. Really, your primary job would be to sit on a nice chair and look pretty."

I hit the counter with my head. "You did **not** just say what I think you said."

"I did," Shasta says. "Your drink is going to get warm if you don't drink it."

"I think I'll let it ferment for a bit," I groan.

"That will take a while," Shasta notes. "I can just get you a harder drink."

"I was joking," I mutter while grabbing my glass. "I don't think I'll touch alcohol again. Every single time I've touched the stuff all of Perim flipped on its head."

Shasta fails at holding back a chuckle. "Michael, the world doesn't decide to go crazy just because you decide to have a drink."

I would agree, but considering the circumstances...

-[]-[]-[]-

"Michael, you have to come to the courtyard."

Sett's voice wakes me up. "What?" I mutter as I pull my blanket over my head. "Sett, it's the middle of the night..."

"You need to come to the conference!" Sett insists.

I flip the blanket down and send one of Sett's one-eyed stares back at him. "So it's still going on? Good for them..."

"Michael, I think it's absolutely essential that you get yourself to the conference **right now**," Sett growls. "One of the candidates claims he knows you personally from back on Earth."

I pull the blanket back over my head. "Good for him. I can worry about that in the morning when the reporters arrive..." Then I flip the blanket down down. "Can you get out of my house so I can sleep?" I swear I'm going to get a door with a lock installed first thing in the morning.

Sett grabs my arm and hoists me to my feet. "You are coming with me to the conference."

"Fine!" I growl grumpily. "Just let me get dressed..."

-[]-[]-[]-

"You see him?" Sett asks.

There's a man standing on some kind of box in the courtyard. There's a huge crowd of people around him, but I can still see what he looks like. He's wearing a thick coat, like everyone else, to protect him from the night air, but his face is completely visible. I push through the crowd to get a better look.

He has somewhat long straight hair, somewhat bleached by the sun, but I can see it used to be brown. His face is clean-shaven, and there's a white scar on his chin. He speaks, and his voice sounds just a bit deeper than mine.

"Do you really know him?" Sett asks me.

"Yeah," I mutter. "We went to high school together."

"High school," Sett says in a puzzled voice.

I don't answer, instead pushing my way through the crowd. I'm going to be close enough for the man to see me in ten seconds... Five seconds... Any moment now...

"Well! Hi there, Michael!" the man says with a wide grin. "I didn't think you were coming!"

"Hello Frank," I say as I push my way to the front of the crowd. "So, you're running for the royal spot?"

Frank grins wider. "As always, you do an incredible job at stating the obvious."

I look around. "I don't see anyone else."

"Well, people can very plainly see that I'm the best for the job," Frank says with a shrug. "I don't take s*** from anyone, and I can do a lot of good for Humans when I'm in position."

"Really," I mutter. "Did you tell everyone you were my friend in high school?"

Frank opens his mouth, but his voice seems to catch in his throat. He glances at the now-murmuring crowd.

There's no way I'm letting Frank succeed. Many long years of experience with him back on Earth won't let me.

I turn to the crowd. "I'm announcing my candidacy."

Frank let's the air out of his lungs in a weak laugh. "They've already chosen me," he exclaims.

"We were given five days to decide," I respond., turning back to Frank. "I suggest we use that time to find the **right** person."

"All right, then," Frank says. He turns to the crowd. "Tell me! Do you want a leader who wants to **stay** in Perim?"

There are some uncommitted mutters in the crowd. I turn to Frank. "You promised to find a way to send people back to Earth?"

"I did," Frank says. "Why aren't you?"

"Because I know there **isn't** a way back," I reply.

Frank steps off the box and stands beside me. "Pessimism like that is why you're going to stay on the bottom, just like back on Earth," he whispers. "Don't think that your fame is more powerful than my promises."

"I wasn't **planning** on relying on my fame," I whisper back. "I know how good you are at getting people on your side. How else did you avoid getting thrown out of school until senior year?"

Frank's jaw clenches. "I wasn't thrown out, I transferred."

"Keep telling yourself that," I whisper. "I wonder how long it'll take before you start bullying and buying your way to the top again."

Frank talks out loud, "It's late, and you all look tired! We'll continue this later!" He glances at me. "Right?"

"Right," I agree.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Years in the Past**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	34. The Years in the Past

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Years in the Past**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Eleven Years Ago:**_

"I'd like all of you to say hello to your new classmate, Michael," the teacher says.

Nobody says hi. I'm not surprised. This is a school for special kids, and special kids don't say hi to new students. They don't say hi to anybody, actually.

My name is Michael, and I've been transferred to a new school in the middle of sixth grade. I'm going to spend the rest of middle school and all of high school here.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm playing on my GameBoy during lunch break. It's Pokémon Gold. Duh duh duh daaah, doo duh duh dah dah daaah... Duh duh duh daaah, doo dah duh daaah...

"Stop singing along with your GameBoy," someone says.

I close my mouth.

Somebody's playing a card game on the next table. I take a look. Oh, that guy there has a game too. Is it Pokémon? No, it's not. I go back to my corner. There's too many people. Stop looking at me everyone.

"Let me see that."

Before I can answer, somebody snatches the GameBoy out of my hands. I look around. There are lots of kids in the cafeteria. I can't tell who took it.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's lunch time of the next day.

"I think this is yours?" a guy says.

I look up, but not at his face. I can't look at faces. "What's mine?"

A green box is put on the table in front of me. It's my GameBoy.

"Thank you," I mutter while I pick it up.

"My name's Frank," says the kid.

I look up for a tiny bit. He has very short brown hair. "Michael." I look back at my GameBoy and turn it on. I press a few buttons. Wait, I know I had more badges than that. I open the saved game. I'm back at the beginning. I don't even have a Pokémon yet. My character's name is also a bad word now. I'd spent so long on that game, and now it's gone...

Frank covers his mouth and snorts.

I mutter, "What's so funny?"

"I wasn't laughing, I was coughing," Frank says. Then he leaves.

-[]-[]-[]-

I've been at this school a couple weeks now.

"Hey, Michael," Frank tells me in computer class, "there's a cool website I want to show you."

I take my hands off the keyboard. Frank types something in the white bar at the top of the Internet window. Some pictures pop up on my screen. It's a bunch of naked women.

I click the close button on the window. "Mom says not to look at pictures like that."

"Oh," Frank says. "Well, you better not let your mom know that you were looking at them. You'll get in trouuuble."

Oh no, is he right? I look around, scared. I hope nobody saw me looking at those pictures.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm in seventh grade now.

"Ow!" I hop around on one leg, holding the other in my hands. "Frank! Why'd you kick me?"

"I didn't kick you," Frank says.

"You're the only one in here!" I accuse.

Frank folds his arms. "You mean you didn't see the other guy?"

"What other guy?" I ask.

"The other guy!" Frank points at the door. "He kicked you and ran out the door!"

"I didn't hear the door open," I say.

Frank sniffs. "That's because you were too busy saying that **I** kicked you." He starts to cry.

I feel awful. "I'm sorry."

"I don't believe you," Frank wails. "If you're really sorry, you'll get me an ice cream for lunch."

"Okay, okay," I say, panicked. "I'll get you an ice cream!"

-[]-[]-[]-

"Ha ha," Frank laughs as he looks over my shoulder. "I can't believe you got that one wrong."

I turn my paper so the blank side is facing up. "It's the only one that's wrong, Frank."

"But you got **that** one wrong!" Frank teases. "Man, you're so dumb."

"What did **you** get?" I ask, frowning.

Frank grins. "I got them all right. It was eeeasy."

"Can I see your paper?" I ask.

Frank's jaw drops. "Are you saying I'm lying to you?"

"No," I mutter, shrinking in my seat.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's my first year of high school. It's still in the same building, but still, it's high school. That means we're all big kids now.

I'm sitting next to a short kid with black hair and large glasses. "My name's Michael," I say.

"Chris," the kid says.

We start talking to each other. Chris really likes space travel, and he wants to live in space one day.

Frank walks up behind Chris and grabs his glasses. "Hey!" Chris says as he jumps up. "Give them back!"

"Give what back?" Frank asks with his hands behind his back.

"His glasses," I say, also standing up.

Frank takes his empty hands out from behind his back. "What glasses? I didn't take any glasses."

What? I could have sworn... "Sorry," I mutter. Frank starts to walk away.

Chris turns to me. "Michael, he tucked them in the back of his pants."

I look at Frank. There **are** glasses there! I grab them.

"Teacher!" Frank yells. "Michael touched my butt!"

"Wh-what?" I stammer. "No!"

"He was getting my glasses back!" Chris yells. "Frank stuffed them down his pants."

Frank throws himself to the ground and kicks his arms and legs around like a much younger kid would. "They're saying it 'cause they don't like meeeee!"

Chris and I got detention.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Frank told me that you're picking on him because he's shorter than you," one of the teachers tell me.

"What?" I shake my head. "I don't pick on Frank. He picks on me!"

The teacher shakes his head. "A lot of kids told me you were picking on Frank, too. I need you to leave Frank alone."

-[]-[]-[]-

Chris and I are hanging out with a new friend of mine, Brett. Brett likes animals a lot. His favorite animal is the monkey.

"Why don't you hang out with me anymore?" Frank asks.

I ignore Frank. Brett, Chris and I continue to look at cat videos on the Internet.

Frank flicks Chris in the back of the head. "Hey!" Chris stands up and tries to punch Frank.

"Chris is fighting in claaass!" Frank calls out as he runs out of the classroom.

I've had enough. "Sit down," I mutter to Chris.

"But he flicked me!" Chris says indignantly.

I look at Chris in the eyes. I've **never** looked him in the eyes before. "Sit down," I repeat.

Chris sits down.

The teacher walks into the classroom with Frank. "Chris, come with me to the front desk."

I turn around in my chair. "Are you taking him to the nurse?"

The teacher blinks. "To the principal."

I make myself look distraught. "But I think he needs the nurse. Frank kept hitting him in the head and said he wouldn't stop unless Chris fought him."

Frank looks stunned. The teacher turns to him. "Frank?"

"I... wha... but..." Frank can't put two words together. He looks incredibly guilty.

The teacher shakes his head. "**You're** coming with me to the front desk. Chris, are you hurt?"

Chris rubs the back of his head. "Not that much."

Frank shots me a dirty look as the teacher leads him out of the class.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's senior year. Brett, Chris and I could almost be mistaken for teens who attend a normal high school now, rather than one for developmentally challenged people. Almost, until we open our mouths. Brett and I talk about Pokémon all the time, even though it's not cool anymore. Chris and I are always having discussions about, believe it or not, whether Earth should be blown up or not.

"Then we could all live in space!" Chris says excitedly.

"Where would our food come from, then?" I ask.

"Greenhouse stations?" Chris suggests.

Brett nudges me without looking up from his GameBoy Advance. "Can you trade me your Kyogre for a moment? He's the only guy I don't have on my Pokédex."

"I need Groudon on mine," I say, digging in my backpack. "Oh, I don't have my link cable."

"Tomorrow, then," Brett says. "And Chris, if you blew up the Earth, you'd have to leave Michael there to blow up with it. He's too tall to go into a space shuttle."

"Oh," Chris says, looking concerned. "Right, make space shuttles for people taller than six feet, **then** blow up the Earth."

Brett and I roll our eyes.

"Did you hear about Frank?" Brett asks after a while.

"No," I say. "He wasn't in class today, though."

"He brought a bunch of knives to school on Friday," Brett says.

Chris's eyes go wide. "Really?"

My eyes are probably just as wide. "That's nuts!"

"One for each person he didn't like, that's what he said," Brett says. He's looking directly at me, and he's never had a more serious look on his face. "He's not coming back here ever again."

I feel shivers go down my back. "Why didn't you say this sooner?"

"I forgot," Brett said.

"Of course you did," I sigh. "Happy graduation, Frank... or not."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Bitter Reunion**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	35. The Bitter Reunion

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Bitter Reunion**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

Frank and I are sitting behind the stage. It's a crude stage, put together in only an hour, but the Humans don't have much time, so a lot of corners are being cut, including making the debate stage actually **look** good.

I'm doing my best not to look at Frank. I'm a little nervous, to be honest. This guy made life miserable for me back on Earth, and now I'm alone with him behind a stage. Even the bright midday sun isn't helping my nerves. It just helps me see the bane of my childhood better. He hasn't changed much, except like the rest of the Humans here he's in a lot better shape than I last remember.

Gah, now I'm a lot more nervous. Any moment now, he's going to say or do something to torment me. Just stay calm, Michael. You're not the same gullible little kid you used to be. Just act like you're in control, and everything will be all right. You **know** his tricks now, he can't manipulate you that easily anymore.

"So," Frank smirks, "the night before we all ended up here... did the thunderstorm wake you up?"

I shake my head. "And it's still not funny-"

"I guess I kicked the wrong trashcan," Frank laughed.

I roll my eyes. "Very mature. Such high quality jokes will absolutely **guarantee** your victory." **Please** stop talking...

Frank leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. "Sarcasm aside, Michael, you're right. I've always been the better public speaker. You always stumble over your words whenever you need to speak on stage."

"I'm not a teenager anymore," I retort. "It's a wonder what speech therapy can do for a guy."

"Speech therapy?" Frank laughs. "That's pathetic."

Don't react, Michael, he wants you to lose your cool.

Frank leans forward. "Even so, I'm going to win. You know why?"

It's bait. Ah well, I'll bite. "Why?"

Frank grins, "Because you're going to let me win."

I snort. "I don't think so."

Frank's grin disappears. "I'll make you hurt. You can't even **dream** of the things I can do to you."

...**Really**, Frank? "You can do worse than stick a sword through my gut, severing my spine?"

Frank blinks, but otherwise his expression remains the same.

I continue, "Oh wait, is it worse than being burned to death by napalm? Being smothered by a pillow? Shot by firing squad?"

Frank's mouth is open like he's trying to talk. I don't let him.

"Oh, I can think of more. Decapitation, or maybe beaten to death over the course of several minutes? Death by magic? Falling off the top of a fifteen story building?"

Frank straightens up. His eyebrows have disappeared underneath his bangs.

"I can do better than that. What about falling four miles while your body's mutating? Tripping down the stairs and hitting your head on every sharp corner on the way down? Eh, that one was a little weak, how about getting your head punched so hard that your brain splatters everywhere? Stepped on by something a hundred times heavier than an elephant? Dying of thirst while all your limbs are broken?"

Frank looks lost for words. Then he laughs, although it's a little nervous. "Wow, you are seriously messed up."

"Not as much as you," I mutter under my breath.

...Hm, I'm not nervous anymore. Frank's not an oppressive force, he's a speed bump. Whatever he can do, I've already faced worse.

Someone comes around back to bring us on the stage.

-[]-[]-[]-

"This question is for Michael. Last night you claimed there was no way to return to Earth. Care to elaborate?"

Take a deep breath, Michael. Think about what you'll say before you say it. "I **would** like to elaborate. Any particular questions?"

"If a way to return to Earth **was** found, what would you do?"

I force myself not to smirk at Frank. "Then, if there were Humans who wanted to return, I'd help organize a research project on said way to return, then hand the project to people with the skills required to carry out the required research." I place my hands on the pulpit. "I want to make something clear, though. I'm not going to **promise** a way to Earth if I don't **know** that one exists."

-[]-[]-[]-

"Frank, did you know about Perim before arriving here, like Michael?"

The corners of Frank's mouth curl upward. "No, and I'm glad. I learned to survive here without thinking that this was all a game. Would you guys want a ruler who treated the world like a card game? I sure wouldn't." Frank turns his head to glance at me and grins.

There's mumbling in the crowd. Many people seem to agree.

I clear my throat. "Before Frank continues, may I clear something up?"

The interviewer hesitates. "You may say one sentence."

I look out the crowd. "Do **I** act like this world is a card game?"

The crowd stops mumbling. Frank looks furious.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Michael, by declaring your candidacy last night, you effectively declared that you thought you would make a better leader than Frank. Anything in particular you want-"

Frank clears his throat. "I'd like to answer this question as well, sir."

The interviewer looks at me. I nod. "...I guess if Michael agrees..."

Frank looks over to me. "Did you know Michael has brain damage? Hey, it's a valid answer."

There's a lot of shocked gasps in the crowd.

Frank's look of triumph disappears when I chuckle. "I went to a high school specifically for teenagers with that problem."

The interviewer turns to Frank. "And you claim to have gone to the same high school as Michael, correct?"

I want a photograph of the look on Frank's face. It's the perfect look for someone who just discovered how much something backfired on them. There's a flash from the crowd. Awesome, I'm buying a copy of whichever newspaper runs that picture.

-[]-[]-[]-

"I won't let anyone push me around," Frank says. "When Humans need something, I'll make sure they get it."

"I'm sure that King Theb-sarr's doing a good job of looking out for humans right now," I respond. "But in the event that our needs aren't being met, I will push for action."

-[]-[]-[]-

There's no clear winner today. For all of Frank's backfired attempts to ruin my image, he is still a better speaker than I am. He can choose his words faster and respond quicker, while I seem to be a little slow with my answers.

Still, there's hope. I'm gathering a lot of support. How much of it is because I'm better known than Frank and how much of it is genuine confidence in my abilities, I'm not sure. But we only have a couple days, and the people still undecided are going to have to choose.

I **have** to win. I can't let a sociopath become even a figurehead. **That** is something I can't even dream of.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Knife**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	36. The Knife

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Knife**

-[]-[]-[]-

Shasta closed the bar early. It's just him, Sett, and me in here now.

"So, tomorrow is when you find out whether the Humans like you or this Frank guy more," Sett says to break the silence at the table.

I nod, but stay silent. I have three different newspapers in front of me, and I'm flipping the poll numbers around in my head.

Sett reaches across the table and gives my shoulder a light punch. "Relax a bit, Michael. You've got a lot more support than Frank."

I shake my head and point at a paper. "It's not a lot more. It only **looks** like a lot more because my supporters are more vocal than Frank's."

Sett stands up and looks at the article I'm pointing at, then turns the paper so it isn't upside-down for him. "What does that symbol mean? The two circles divided by a line?"

"Percent," I say.

Sett's eye ridges pinch together. "You have a ten percent lead according to this."

"Which doesn't mean anything if that survey is biased," I note. I flip open another paper. "This one says Frank's more popular, and both of them have only a two-hundred person sample size."

Sett looks up at me. "Is there any way I can convince you to tell me what Frank did to you? Or maybe tell all the other Humans?"

Shasta, who'd been silent up until now, speaks up. "How would it help, Sett? They were children at the time, and even if Frank hasn't changed from back then, he could counter it by saying he's matured in the mean time."

"I'm also trying to avoid directly accusing Frank of anything," I add. I read directly from one of the papers, "'Although Frank is significantly more skilled at actual debating, he hurts his chances by trying to accentuate negative qualities in his opponent, with most of his attempts being defeated with one or two sentences from Michael.'" I look up at Sett. "As long as Frank keeps digging his own grave, I should do well."

"But you're still nervous," Sett notes.

I point at the paper. "Do you think Frank ignores the news? If he takes this and shapes up, then tomorrow's going to be a lot rougher."

There's a knock at the door. Shasta turns to it and shouts, "We're closed!"

"I need to talk to Michael," a male voice says.

Shasta blinks, "That's Frank. Am I right?"

I nod.

Shasta calls out again, "I said we're closed!"

Sett's eyes light up, and a small grin appears on his face. "Wait," he whispers. "Michael, can you guess why he wants to talk to you?"

"Probably to try to threaten or bribe me," I mutter. "Most likely threaten."

Frank's voice says, "I can wait out here all night if I need to."

Sett glances at the door. "Let him in. Don't give any indication that I'm here."

"You're not going to attack him, are you?" I mutter. "Not that I'm complaining, but it'll make me look bad."

"Only if he attacks you first," Sett says before his form flickers and seems to vanish.

I glance at Shasta. "I do feel safer talking to him with Sett standing guard."

Shasta stares at Sett's chair in confusion for a moment, then stands up. "Fine. Michael says he'll talk to you." He opens the door.

Frank cracks a wide smile at Shasta. "Can Mike and I talk alone, like old friends?"

Shasta gives Frank an unamused stare. "I must have missed the part where Michael said you and he were friends."

Frank's smile falters a little. "Look, lizard, I want to talk with Michael without you hovering over our shoulders. If you're not going to leave, I'm going to have to find another way to keep you from listening to us."

"I'll be fine," I say.

Shasta glances at me. "Okay then..." Frank steps aside, and Shasta leaves.

Frank enters the room and locks the door. "There," he mutters. He turns to me and glowers. "Why do you always have to make everything so difficult, Mike?"

I stare at Frank. "You were the one who made **my** life difficult."

"Psh," Frank exhales, "don't blame me. You were the one who made it so fun to mess with you." He chuckles a little. "It was so **easy**, all I had to do was say 'f***' and you'd freak out like a little wuss."

"Hm." I make a show of picking at my fingernails.

Frank frowns and sits down. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," I nod.

Frank blinks. "Well, it doesn't f***ing sound like you give a s*** you c***-sucking little b****."

I notice a grain of sand under my thumbnail and remove it.

"Did you hear me at all?" Frank asks in a exasperated voice.

I point at my ear. "I've taught myself to tune out individual words like the ones you're trying to make me react to."

Frank glares for a moment. "Why do you have to ruin my fun?" His fists are clenched and trembling. "I never got to go to prom, never got to graduate, couldn't get a job anywhere, and it's all your fault."

I raise an eyebrow. "Uh, no, that was your fault. You brought weapons to school."

Frank whips his hand back and forth as if he were swatting a fly away from his face. "Don't try to turn it onto me. Eleventh grade, you started to push back when I pushed you. You jumped in when I tried to have fun messing with other people."

I can't believe this. Talk about ignoring the real problem.

Frank threw his hands up. "Some of the kids started taking advice from you! You remember Chris? Used to flip the f*** out whenever anyone did anything to him. Twelfth grade? Offered me hand sanitizer when I threw mud at him. He said it was **your** idea."

Sheesh, Frank, are you even listening to yourself? "And **that's** why you brought knives to school?"

Frank grits his teeth. "Yeah. Maybe I could get my way again if you weren't always in my way."

My heart's pounding. "You do realize you would have ended up in jail if you'd succeeded, right?" I say.

"Since when did anyone ever care about idiot kids at some idiot school for idiots?" Frank scoffs. "If Brett hadn't looked in my backpack, I could have stopped you and gotten away with it."

...Brett, if you can hear me, thank you **so** much.

Frank puts his hands under the table. "And now you're making life difficult for me **again**."

I'm silent for a while. Then I say, "Have you ever considered, you know, having fun in ways that **don't** hurt other people?"

Frank leaps to his feet, and there's a flash of thin, serrated metal in his hand that makes my heart stop for a moment. It's a knife! Frank shouts, "How about you add another death to that list in that f***ed up brain of yours: cut into little pieces! I might even hide the pieces in lizard-guy's supply of meat!"

Frank throws the table aside and takes a step forward. I feel Sett's tail bump my ankle. He's stepped in front of me! "Wait!" I shout, knocking my chair over as I scramble backwards.

Frank stops. "What?" he spits.

Good, he stopped moving. I don't need Sett getting hurt because of me. "If I don't show up tomorrow, everyone's going to think that you did something to me."

"So?" Frank growls. The hand holding the knife tenses up.

I would be rolling my eyes right now if not for the knife. "You're still going to kill me? Think **really** hard about that."

Frank hesitates, then lowers his arm. "You're right. I'll wait until **after** I win, **then** Shasta can wonder why everyone says his food tastes funny." He storms to the door, unlocks it, and storms out.

I collapse in a chair and let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in. A minute later, Sett flickers out of invisibility. "That's not a Human. That's an Underworlder pretending to be a Human."

Shasta flickers into view immediately afterwords. "That's an insult to Underworlders," he says.

"Not funny," I mumble, pressing my palm to my forehead.

"Not meant to be," Shasta says, shooting Sett an irritated look. "What was the point of all that?"

"I can't tell you," Sett says. "Actually, it's Michael I can't tell, but the fewer who know the better." He turns to me. "Don't worry about anything," he says before heading out the door.

Shasta and I stare at the door. I mutter, "Shasta, thanks for being here in case things got out of hand."

"You're welcome," Shasta replies.

"Do you have a spare bed at your house?" I ask. "I don't feel safe."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Crystal Truth**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	37. The Crystal Truth

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Crystal Truth**

-[]-[]-[]-

It's the last day, and everyone's feeling the pressure. The time limit turned something that would normally take months into a race less than a week long. With so little time, there really should be more than two candidates still in the running, but it's just the two of us, Frank and me.

Five days ago, before I'd seen Frank campaigning, I didn't want anything to do with this. Now, however, it's a life or death struggle for me to win. A funny thing about that is that life or death is more like Al Mipedim or Underworld City for me now.

What **will** I do if I end up having to start all over in Underworld City?

Focus, Michael. You can win this thing.

Shouldn't I tell someone about Frank's plan to kill me?

With what proof? Just win and hire a personal guard.

I give myself a mental slap in the face. I need to prepare for the final debates.

-[]-[]-[]-

Less final debates than closing statements, it turns out, and for once Frank and I are **both** at a loss. Neither of us have said much, and the crowd is getting restless.

I glance at Frank. Even with the difficulties we're having today, he looks confident. I have no idea what expression **I** have on right now, but I doubt it looks as collected as Frank's.

"It seems like you two are having problems coming up with anything," a woman near the front notes.

Frank grins, folds his arms, and rests his elbows on the patio. "I think that's true. Both of us came here prepared to answer questions rather than give a speech."

Gah! I should have been the one to say that!

The woman nods. "Well, then I have a question. What made you decide to campaign, Frank?"

Frank speaks quickly but calmly, "I saw that there was too much indecision about who our ruler should be. We need someone who's sure of himself, who's ready to make tough decisions when the time comes."

Just what I was afraid of. Frank isn't trying to make me look bad, he's just trying to make himself look good.

The woman turns to me. "Your decision to campaign came a little out of left field, Michael. What made **you** change your mind and decide to campaign?"

...Aw crap. "I've have previous experience with Frank that told me he wouldn't make a good leader."

"Do tell," the woman says as she crosses her legs.

Don't start freaking out, Michael. "Out of respect for my opponent, I'd rather not say."

I don't think that worked well at all. Frank looks over at me and asks, "Are you **still** hung up over high school, Michael? Is that really the whole reason you're campaigning?"

There's murmuring in the crowd. This is **not** going well.

There's a man and a woman pushing their way through the crowd. Don't I know them? Ah, they tried to interview my about who I was interested in before all this started. "Excuse me, I have a question for Frank!" the woman calls out.

The woman currently asking questions steps aside, and the pair of reporters take her place. The woman asks, "Frank, how would you describe your past and present relationship with Michael?"

Frank glances over at me. "I'd always thought it was a friendly rivalry," he says. "You know, both of us struggling to be better than the other."

The man asks, "So, nothing to legitimately hate the other about?"

Frank shakes his head. "Nothing that **I** noticed."

The man glances at the woman, who nods. The man turns to the crowd. "We received a recording of a conversation that occurred last night. You might find some interesting information in it."

Frank pushes his eyebrows together in confusion.

The woman places a crystal on the stage in front of Frank and me and gives it a tap.

Frank's voice comes out of the crystal, "Can Mike and I talk alone, like old friends?"

Frank's eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. I probably look just as surprised.

"I must have missed the part where Michael said you and he were friends," Shasta's voice says.

"Look, lizard, I want to talk with Michael without you hovering over our shoulders." The flesh-and-blood Frank pales as he recognizes his voice. "If you're not going to leave, I'm going to have to find another way to keep you from listening to us."

My voice says, "I'll be fine."

"Okay then..." says Shasta's voice.

There's a bit of silence, during which time Frank looks like he wants to smash the crystal. The his voice comes out of it again. "There." A pause. "Why do you always have to make everything so difficult, Mike?"

"You were the one who made **my** life difficult," my voice responds.

The crowd can't seem to decide who to stare at between Frank and me.

Frank's voice takes a nasty edge to it. "Psh, don't blame me. You were the one who made it so fun to mess with you." A chuckle. "It was so **easy**, all I had to do was say 'f***' and you'd freak out like a little wuss."

"Hm," responds my uninterested voice.

As the recording continues, Frank's face grows more and more horrified. The crowd's attention is completely on him now, with more and more murmuring the more they hear.

"Since when did anyone ever care about idiot kids at some idiot school for idiots?" Frank's voice scoffs. "If Brett hadn't looked in my backpack, I could have stopped you and gotten away with it. And now you're making life difficult for me **again**."

There's silence from the crystal for a few seconds. Then my voice says, ""Have you ever considered, you know, having fun in ways that **don't** hurt other people?"

There's the sound of a chair toppling over. "How about you add another death to that list in that f***ed up brain of yours: cut into little pieces!" Frank's voice bellows. "I might even hide the pieces in lizard-guy's supply of meat!"

There are shouts of alarm from the crowd, and I hear someone vomiting. The crystal plays the sound of a table crashing against the floor, then my panicked voice trying to stop Frank. Frank's hands are trembling, and he looks as if we wants to smash the crystal.

Eventually the recording finishes with Frank saying, "You're right. I'll wait until **after** I win, **then** Shasta can wonder why everyone says his food tastes funny." There's the sound of the door latch opening and someone stomping away.

Everyone stares at Frank, who's staring at the pulpit. "But... I made sure..." he mutters. "There wasn't anyone else there..."

The woman says, "So, Frank, what do you have to say about this?"

Frank hands tremble as he points at the crystal. "That was doctored! I didn't say any of that!"

"You **just** said, 'There wasn't anyone else there.' It sounds like you **did** say those things." The woman turns to me. "Did that conversation actually happen?"

I nod. "Exactly."

Frank's grabbing his pulpit with both hands. His voice trembles, "...I don't know how you did it, Michael..." He turns to look at me. His face is twisted with hate and rage, teeth bared and eyes wild. "But you're not going to live long enough to tell me."

Frank steps forward and pulls a long serrated knife out of a pouch at his waist. Someone in the crowd screams.

...And suddenly two Mipedians appear between Frank and me, Maliph and Malvidine. Both are pointing glowing swords at Frank.

Maliph growls, "Put that knife down."

Malvadine spits, "I can't believe someone like you could make a whole tribe trust him."

If they weren't so busy saving my life I'd hug them both.

Frank's eyes flit back and forth between the two Mipedian guards. Then his eyes settle on me. "You had an invisible lizard-guy in there with you," he snarls. "You had someone recording everything."

Malvadine snarls, "We told you to drop the knife!"

Frank shouts, "You're **dead**, Michael!" He takes a step forward and raises the knife.

Maliph flicks his sword, catching the blade of Frank's knife with its tip and ripping it out of his hands, sending it spinning across the stage. Then he and Malvadine point their swords at Frank's neck. "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be," Maliph warns. "We have you for assault and conspiracy to murder. Unless a Human here objects?"

Nobody objects. The crowd looks a little sick to their stomachs.

Frank's face pales. His eyes glance over to where his knife landed, then back to me. He repeats this a few times, then stares at the Mipedian guards ready to strike him down. "...I give up," he mutters as he seems to deflate.

I let out a breath, then turn back to the crowd as Frank is escorted away. Then it hits me. Sett had to have done all this. He had to have given those reporters the recording, had to have convinced Maliph and Malvadine to stand here invisible for this long time.

Someone in the crowd clears his throat after a while. "Well... should we even bother with a vote now? Unless someone else wants to join the race... at the last minute... after all this..." The man's voice falls silent.

...Well, I guess there's weirder ways to become leader of the Humans...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Royal We**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	38. The Royal We

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Royal We**

-[]-[]-[]-

I expected a bit of a breather, some time to come out of my adrenaline rush. I expected a few hours of peace before whatever King Theb-sarr had in mind began.

I did not get what I expected.

"Michael, please come with me," a guard says soon after my unofficial recognition as leader of the Human tribe. "We're going to the palace."

I haven't gotten the chance to thank Sett for making everything possible, but there's an impatient tone to the guard's voice. "Lead on," I say awkwardly.

The guard pushes through a wall of people hoping for an interview, and I try not to lose him. It can't have taken long, but it feels like an age when we reach the palace doors. King Theb-sarr is waiting there. His arms are folded, and he looks... anxious?

"The Human tribe has chosen its leader," the guard says as he bows to Theb-sarr.

Theb-sarr glances at me and says, "I see. Congratulations, Michael."

I begin to thank the king, but he cuts me off. "We have less time than I anticipated. You need to be presentable before sundown."

"Presentable?" I ask. "Is someone coming? Who?"

"It is probably best if you do not know right now," Theb-ssar notes, then he turns to the guard. "Is the banquet prepared?"

"Not yet, your Majesty," the guard mutters apologetically.

Theb-sarr clenches his teeth together and hisses. "How far along?"

"If everything proceeds as it currently is," the guard says hesitantly, "we have eight hours before everything is finished."

Theb-sarr closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets it out. "Right, so, hm..." He looks out the doors at the sun, which is sitting at its zenith. "We don't have eight hours. Whatever roasts are in the ovens, let them finish, but do not start any others..."

King Theb-sarr lists off a long string of alterations to the banquet, and I quickly lose track of all of them. The guard eventually bows and leaves, and Theb-sarr turns to me.

The Mipedian king give me a despairing look. "Arg, what first?" he mutters. His eyes dart up and down as he looks at me. "You need robes. Follow me."

-[]-[]-[]-

The first thing I see when we enter the room is a robe.

It's a nice robe. It's made of violet cloth covered with intricate geometric patterns stitched with gold-colored thread. I don't know what material the robe is made of, but I remember that it's a thin yet strong cloth. Someone could wear it without anything underneath and still feel comfortable. It's a little long, though, so if I wore it my hands would disappear into the sleeves when I put my arms down, and the bottom hem would always be dragging on the ground.

Well, that was the long way to say that I've seen this exact robe before. My tenth life. I was wearing it when I died.

"Did you mean those robes?" are the first words out of my mouth.

Theb-sarr shakes his head. "Violet is for visiting royalty. Yours will be a different color."

Quick, Michael! Think of something! "Can mine be a little shorter? If I'm going to be wearing it often, I don't want to ruin it by always stepping on it."

Theb-sarr hesitates for a second, then nods. "I see your point." He turns to the seemingly empty room. "I need a robe for this human, hem to the ankles, sleeves to the wrists! We have until sundown!" He glances at me. "Stand still."

"Huh?" is all I manage to say before my confusion is erased by what looks like several floating measuring tapes. Ah, I'm going to be measured by the invisible servants.

After about a minute of measurements, Theb-sarr turns to the door. "With me," he orders.

-[]-[]-[]-

"You should feel lucky King Theb-sarr thought to find a Human to help you get ready," says a middle-aged woman. "If he hadn't, these Mipedians might have taken **all** your hair off."

One of the things I need to do is get rid of a some hair. A **lot** of hair. The only hair that will be on my body after this are the hair on my scalp and my eyebrows. **Everything** else has to go. Plucked out at the root, not simply shaven.

This is going to be **very** unpleasant...

"Don't worry, this won't hurt a lot," says the woman as she oversees a Mipedian melting some wax.

I speak up from the reclined chair I'm lying in, "Ma'am, I'm had my eyebrows waxed before. You don't have to lie to me."

"Oh," mutters the woman. "Yes, this is going to hurt quite a bit. Possibly more than you can imagine."

"I can imagine a lot," I say. There's burning to death, for one thing.

The woman turns around with a bowl of melted wax. A Mipedian moves my arm so it's stretched out, palm down, and the woman starts to pour wax on it.

This part actually feels kind of nice, the warm wax. It doesn't help me relax, though, and I feel myself tense up as a cloth is pressed onto the wax.

"On five," the woman says. "Take a deep breath first and let it out."

I do so.

The woman begins. "One, two-" She pulls the strip of cloth.

"**Ow!**" I shout. "...Ow... You know that's not going to work again, right?"

"I'll manage," the woman says as she starts pouring more wax.

Several painful minutes later, and I'm almost completely hair free. I have the equivalent of the closest shave ever everywhere on my body. A close, terrifyingly painful shave.

I sit up. "Ow, ow, ow... so... what next?"

The woman bites her lip. "Erm, the only hair I'm supposed to leave on you are your eyebrows and a decent haircut. I need you to lie down again."

I immediately know what she's talking about. I clench my legs together. "Ah! Wait, we don't really need to worry about that, right? It's not like anyone's going to see he there."

"King Theb-sarr was very clear," the woman frowned.

I take back every nice thing about Theb-sarr I ever thought.

-[]-[]-[]-

My whole body is tender, sensitive to the touch. I had to limp the the bathhouse, where I'm being given a much more thorough cleaning than I usually give myself. The servants are still using the same cleaning oil, but they don't stop after the first cleaning.

It's so **creepy** how all the servants are invisible! All I see are globs of oil floating from bowls to my skin and floating scrapers to remove the tools. I feel scaly hands rubbing the oil into my skin, I hear footsteps, but I can't see **anyone**!

It's not a moment too soon when the cleaning finally stops. I hurry out of the hot room to find my clothes, but I can't find them. "Has anyone seen my-"

"Your robes are ready," King Theb-sarr's voice says. I turn to see him standing in the bathhouse doorway. "Follow me."

I hunch forward and cross my arms in front of myself. "Follow you? Naked?"

Theb-sarr blinks, then squeezes his eyes shut. "Right, you can't turn invisible." He turns to the air beside him. "Collect his robes and return here."

-[]-[]-[]-

The robe is made of yellow cloth, he same kind as the violet one. It's just as comfortable, too. There are no elaborate geometric designs on this one, though, just the symbol of the Mipedians emblazoned on the back in black thread. It reaches my ankles and my wrists, and the neckline drops to the bottom of my chest.

I've also been loaned some jewelry. Around my neck is a thick silver necklace, and wrapped around my wrists are a pair of silver bangles studded with yellow gems.

...I look like a canary.

"Perfect," Theb-sarr mutters.

I hear the sound of a trumpet in the distance.

Theb-sarr's eyes widen. "Is the banquet ready?" he asks.

A voice comes from the air to his side. "If we have half an hour more, everything will be ready."

Theb-sarr nods. "Come, Michael. We're going to delay our guest."

"Who?" I ask.

Theb-sarr turns on his heel and marches out the door. "Chaor."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Demon King Again**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**I****f you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	39. The Demon King Again

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Demon King Again**

-[]-[]-[]-

It's sunset. The eastern sky is dark and filled with stars, while the western sky is bright blue. I hadn't realized how much time had passed when I was being made presentable.

At the gates of Al Mipedim is some strange cross between a carriage and a tank. It's armor plated, bright red with black spikes, and it's being led by a team of what look like horse skeletons. They're similar to skeletal steeds from the show and card game. Surrounding the vehicle are Underworlders wearing red and black plate armor covered with spikes. Most are holding weapons, though two at the very front are holding instruments that look a lot like trumpets.

Meanwhile, inside the walls of Al Mipedim, on the other side of the open gates, are King Theb-sarr in full royal regelia, the Crown Prince Iflar in similar clothing, and myself in what as well be gold-colored pajamas. Around us are several dozen guards.

Theb-sarr steps forward, and the guards part for him. The Mipedian king says in a loud but calm voice, "We welcome you to Al Mipedim, Chaor of the Underworld."

There's a sound like hissing air as the top of the carriage-tank lifts up. Soon its occupant can be clearly seen. Chaor grabs the left side of the carriage, hoists himself out, and lands on the ground.

Chaor looks... exactly the same as the first time I saw him. He's a huge demon with red skin, large curved horns, and a muscular body clothed only in a fur loincloth and a pair of boots.

I'm reminded that three of my past lives were ended by this creature. I feel incredibly small.

"Theb-sarr," Chaor says as he folds his arms over his large chest. His face seems to have an expression somewhere between smug and irritated. "I do believe you have members of my tribe living within your city."

Well, Chaor didn't waste any time there.

Theb-sarr puts on a confused expression. "Underworlders in Al Mipedim? I think I would have known that if it were true."

Chaor sneers, and I **swear** his eyes began to glow a little. "Don't play coy. I'm referring to the Humans. You have one in your company right now."

Theb-sarr turns to look at me. "Oh, him? He's not an Underworlder. He's the leader of the Human tribe."

Chaor blinks, then snickers. "To the contrary, I have the leader of the Human tribe with me right now." He turns to the carriage and raps its armor with his knuckles. "Lilth, show yourself."

Absolutely nothing happens.

Chaor knocks harder. "Lilth, you will reveal yourself, **now**."

A woman's voice calls out, "One of the conditions to our marriage was that you wouldn't address me the same way you would a servant, Chaor."

I hide a grin by pretending to rub an itch on my chin. Whoever she is, Lilth is **good**.

Chaor bares his teeth and faces Theb-sarr again. "...I present to you Queen Lilth of the Human tribe."

"Much better," says the woman's voice, and a figure stands and leans over the edge of the carriage. She has long, wavy black hair and pale skin. She's wearing a black dress with no sleeves and a low neckline. She has a sharpness to her eyes, and she has a relaxed air to her posture.

Theb-sarr nods his head to Lilth. "Queen Lilth, would you call yourself queen of all Humans? Or queen of the Humans in the Underworld?"

Lilth leans forward and rests her arms on the edge of the carriage. "In the Underworld, of course. It isn't as if Chaor holds dominion over the desert, correct?" A small grin sneaks its way onto her face.

Chaor's eyes narrow, and he growls. "As true as that might be, I know that the Humans here did not have a leader five days ago. You expect me to believe that in that time a leader has risen among them?"

"Yes," Theb-sarr says simply.

Chaor blinks, then he clenches his teeth. "...Well, they still belong to the Underworld. I have claimed them."

King Theb-sarr shakes his head. "Actually, Chaor, I was about to adopt the Humans here into my tribe through their leader here."

Chaor lets out a loud laugh. "Oh really?" he turns to look at me, and I feel the air around me become very cold. "What lies in your bloodline, Human? Any Mipedian royalty among your ancestors?"

I don't even get a chance to respond before Chaor turns back to Theb-sarr. "I'm familiar with Mipedian laws, Theb-sarr. How do you plan to legally adopt a commoner into your family?"

Theb-sarr folds his arms. "I am already taking care of it. If you insist on seeing for yourself how, then I have an invitation for you."

Chaor narrows his eyes. "An invitation to what, exactly?"

Theb-sarr presents a hand in my direction. "To watch the leader of the Human tribe, Michael, marry my daughter Isis."

Wait, did I hear that correctly?

Chaor turns to stare at me, a look of realization spreading across his face.

Theb-sarr folds his arms. "And if you claim I can't do that, then you also claim the same for yourself."

Chaor bares his teeth for a moment. Then he forces the expression away. "Very well, Theb-sarr, I accept your invitation. I must see the **entire** ceremony, though."

"Of course," Theb-sarr replies.

-[]-[]-[]-

Chaor's carriage is being paraded behind us as we approach the palace.

I'm in a daze. So much has happened today, and now I learn that Theb-sarr had planned a marriage. Would the marriage have been to himself or Iflar if the Humans had picked a woman? I don't think I'm going to find out.

I do know one thing, though. My life has now abandoned all sense of normalcy.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Banquet and the Ceremony**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	40. The Banquet and the Ceremony

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Banquet and the Ceremony**

-[]-[]-[]-

I have the strangest feeling I've **been** to this party before. Just enough of it is similar to the celebratory feast for Iflar's return four months ago. There are long tables **packed** with Mipedians and Humans, there's **mountains** of food, and there's music and dancing and so much more. There is one jarring difference, though. At a smaller table, a little off to the right side of the royal table, sits the king of the Underworld and his Human wife.

Chaor refused to put on the large violet robe offered to him. He had expressed quite loudly that the clothing he had brought with him would work perfectly fine, and so he's sitting at his table wearing, well, a fur loincloth and a pair of boots. Lilth, however, accepted her gifted robe quite readily, and she's wearing it right now.

Chaor eats just as messily as I remember from three lives ago, without utensils and dripping food from his mouth. Lilth, on the other hand, is sitting and eating with such impeccable manners that it almost looks fake.

Over at the table I'm sitting at is the familiar seating arrangement from four months ago. Prince Mudeenu, his perpetual scowl darkened even more than usual. Theb-sarr, eating calmly as if a huge murderous demon **wasn't** mere feet away. Prince Iflar, stealing the occasional nervous glance at Chaor. Princess Isis, looking **far** too interested in her food. Myself, probably looking like I'd ridden the world's most violent roller-coaster. Twice.

It's been a hour, and I haven't eaten anything yet. I'm still trying to process everything that happened today. I still haven't recovered from the circus at the election, the waxing, the washing, and the shock of Chaor being here.

"Pass this to Michael," Iflar says, handing a glass to his sister. Isis sets the glass down in front of me.

"What's this?" I ask.

Iflar glances at Chaor again. "It's to settle your nerves."

"I'm perfectly calm," I lie, "and this smells like alcohol."

Iflar lowers his voice. "Your hands are shaking and you haven't eaten anything. Drink up."

I sigh and take a sip. Yup, it's alcohol.

Theb-sarr stands as I set my glass down. "Is everyone enjoying themselves?"

A halfhearted cheer starts up in the crowd which slowly fades away.

Theb-sarr acts as if nothing was wrong. "Good, good. Now," he claps his hands together, "an hour has passed, so let us move on to the reason why we're having this banquet."

The eyes of everyone in the courtyard snap to me. Or is it Isis and me they're staring at? Regardless, I feel my heart try to jump out of my chest.

Theb-sarr continues, "I'm pleased to announce the wedding of-"

The rest of Theb-sarr's speech is drowned out by a loud laugh from Chaor. "Please, Theb-sarr!" he chortles, "We all know **why** you're throwing this party! Don't sully our appetites with long speeches!"

There's a moment of dead silence. Lilth raises her eyebrow at Chaor, then turns to the crowd and speaks, "Well, it seems Chaor's reputation as an uncouth brute is well deserved, but all of us who knew about Perim beforehand already knew that."

Several Humans laugh. So, Lilth watched the show?

Chaor growls a little. "Do not mock me."

Lilth covers her mouth in false surprise, "But, your Majesty, isn't your reputation a thing to be proud of?"

There's more laughter from the crowd. Chaor folds his arms and- is he **pouting**?

Theb-sarr shakes his head. "It seems I'm forever doomed to have my speeches interrupted," he sighs with a grin on his face.

At that comment, the crowd absolutely cracks up. The courtyard is filled with laughter, and I think I spot several people falling out of their chairs.

Theb-sarr sits down. "Not like it matters anyway," he notes. "Everyone should already know about the wedding." He looks over at me. "Any similarities to weddings on Earth?"

I had not been expecting that question. "Huh? Well, not so far really. For one, the party usually takes place **after** the wedding ceremony."

"How long after the consummation?" Theb-sarr asks.

"Th-the what?" I stammer.

"The consummation," Theb-sarr repeats. "It means-"

"I know what it means," I say. My face feels hot. "The... The consummation usually happens **after** the party, on the honeymoon, I think." Gah, this is such an uncomfortable topic.

Prince Mudeenu leans forward so he can see my face. "It doesn't happen immediately after the ceremony on Earth? Are there even any witnesses?"

...Oh dear God, **directly** after the ceremony? No getting a private room? Someone's going to **watch** us having sex?

Theb-sarr, Iflar and Mudeenu stare at me as I grab my glass of hard drink and and drain it.

-[]-[]-[]-

The banquet is wrapping up. Humans and Mipedians are starting to leave. Soon I'll be inside the palace, getting married to Isis.

Soon as in now. Wow, time flies when you're tipsy.

There's a older looking Mipedian wearing a purple cloak. He has a long snout, yellow eyes, and smooth orange scales, and a row of spike protrude from his back and through his cloak. I swear, I should know his name, but I can't quite place it.

"Proceed with the ceremony, Sobtjek," Theb-sarr orders.

Ah, the purple-cloaked Mipedian is Sobtjek. I **knew** I recognized him.

Chaor is sitting with Theb-sarr, keen on making sure Theb-sarr meant what he'd said earlier. I wish he'd stop looking at us...

Sobtjek looks at Isis and me. "Please kneel," he says.

We do so. The stone floor is hard on my knees, but I grit my teeth and bear it. Ugh, that waxing did a number on me. My nerves are shot, and any amount of pressure on my body is painful.

Sobtjek holds a hand over each of our heads. "Isis, daughter of Theb-sarr, and Michael, son of..."

...Oh, he's waiting for me to speak. "Roy."

Sobtjek continues, "And Michael, son of Roy. Tonight you will be joined together." He places a hand on Isis's head. "Isis, do you accept Michael as your husband."

"Yes," Isis says. Her voice sounds... strained.

I feel Sobtjek place his hands on my head. "Michael, do you accept Isis as your wife?"

"Yes," I say. I'm **barely** able to keep my voice from shaking.

"Good," says Sobtjek. "Please turn to face each other."

Isis slides her knees across the ground so she pivots to face me, and I copy her. I look at her, and it dawns on me. I know nothing meaningful about her. I've spoken to her only once, and suddenly I'm marrying her. We're almost complete strangers to each other. Do **all** arranged marriages feel this awkward and impersonal?

"Take each other by the hands," Sobtjek says.

Isis holds out her hands. I place mine in hers. Her hands are warm and scaly.

"Before we proceed," Sobtjek says, "Michael will need a name. The name that has been chosen, and that you will be known by when serving as a member of royalty, is Prince Osiris."

I briefly glance at Sobtjek. Did I hear that correctly? Isis and Osiris. That **can't** be a coincidence.

Sobtjek places a hand over ours. "By the strength of the Ancient Powers, I join you together. By the will of the king, I join you together. By the consent of you both, I join you together."

...Wait, was that it? That's the whole ceremony?

Sobtjek moves away and head for the bench Theb-sarr and Chaor are sitting at. Now that he's moved, I can see that a... something... was behind him. The word "bed" doesn't quite cut it, because normal beds don't have shapes molded into the mattress and-

Before Sobtjek sits, he says, "You will now seal your marriage."

...Gee, was "Hurry up so we can watch you have sex" not classy enough for you?

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Carnal Rite**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	41. The Carnal Rite

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Carnal Rite**

-[]-[]-[]-

When I was young, I didn't understand marriage or sex or anything like that. My mom was simply my mom, my dad was simply my dad, and that was all there was to it. I grew up thinking that one day I'd become an adult and suddenly I'd be married and taking care of a family of my own.

Then I became a teenager and learned a bit more about reality. I learned about dating and marriage, and how it didn't just suddenly happen. You had to work hard at attracting someone to you, and had to abandon all thoughts that getting into a relationship would just suddenly happen. You simply didn't wake up to find yourself married to someone without having actually courted that someone.

Of course, here in Perim, all bets are off, and now I'm supposed to consummate my marriage to Princess Isis. With three witnesses present, to make things more complicated.

Isis, still holding my hands, stands up and takes me to the bed in the room. My feet automatically follow her while my brain tries to reboot itself. Isis sit down on the edge of the bed, and I sit beside her.

I glance at the witnesses. Big mistake. It's bad enough that Sobtjek, who just moments ago had performed the ceremony, is sitting and watching us, but Theb-sarr is also there. King Theb-sarr, **father** of Princess Isis. Isn't the first rule of sex **not** to have it in front of a parent?

The last witness isn't much better. Chaor's still here. I thought for sure that he'd be asked to leave. Nope, turns out he's here to watch the **whole** ceremony, consummation included. To make it worse, I'd been forced to watch **him** have sex in a past life. Maybe someone else would find it ironic, but I just find it incredibly creepy.

I'm not **near** drunk enough to be okay with this setup. Eh, I shouldn't be thinking that, I can't exactly give consent while in a drunken coma.

I feel scaly fingers touch my cheek. "Don't look at them," Isis whispers. "I can tell it stresses you out."

A scary thought crosses my mind. "Are you okay with all of this?" I ask.

"I am," she mutters. Her voice sounds strained again.

"You don't sound like it," I murmur.

Isis stares at me. "I've had five days to get used to the idea that I might be marrying a complete stranger. At least we've **met** before."

Gee, thanks Isis. That makes me feel a **ton** better.

Isis puts her hands on my shoulders and turns my body to face her. "You're not going to make me walk you through this, right?" I see her lips curl into what's almost grin when she says that. She trying to calm herself as much as she's trying to calm me.

I raise my hands up towards her, then pause. I don't know what I'm doing! Do we kiss? Do I undress her? Are we supposed to just do it, or are can we take our time?

Whatever expression is on my face, Isis sees it and frowns. She takes my hands and brings then closer to her, then loops my thumbs under the fabric of her dress near her chest. "Slow breaths," she says. "Don't panic, don't rush." Her words seem confident, but she sounds as nervous and apprehensive as I am.

I close my eyes and slowly take a deep breath, then exhale. The room smells a little like rose petals. I open my eyes, make my grip firmer on the collar of Isis's dress, and begin to slide the sleeves off her shoulders. The cloth moves with little resistance, and the upper half of the dress wrinkles and folds as I pull it down.

I feel my heart race as I look at Isis now, at her exposed breasts. I resist the reflex to look away, ingrained from years of my mom pounding into my head that I respect a woman's decency. This isn't exactly the situation that was meant for.

Isis disentangles her hands from her sleeves, then stands up and lets the dress slide down to the floor. She's naked now, and her garnet red scales catch the light.

Isis sits back down and places a hand on my chest. I shiver as she slides her fingers down, parting my robe. Her fingers are at my stomach now, and her other hand joins, moving the cloth aside. Isis's hands reach the sash at my waist, and with some effort she undoes the knot and tosses it aside. The robe comes off easily after that, dragging across my skin as Isis removes it.

My robes join Isis's dress on the floor. My skin is exposed to the air, but it's warm inside the palace. I feel even warmer, my body heat rising in anticipation of what will happen soon. My groin aches as I look at Isis's naked body.

...But then I catch sight of the witnesses out of the corner of my eye, and I feel my chest tighten up. Sobtjek and Theb-sarr look as detached and impassive while they watch as when we started, but a devious grin has formed on Chaor's face. His chest expands and contracts more rapidly, and his nostrils flare with every breath. I catch a glimpse of the tip of his tail flicking back and forth, and the front of his loincloth has risen a couple inches.

I feel Isis's hands on my cheeks again, and I turn to see her face approach mine-

Our mouths touch. I close my eyes. I can feel her lips, covered in tiny smooth scales, press against my lips. Suddenly the sensitivity of my skin is a wonderful thing. Isis's hand lower from my cheeks and drag down my neck until they reach my shoulders, and it feels wonderful. I take a hold of Isis's shoulders as well, and I slightly part my lips into the kiss. The scent of a desert flower, I can't tell which one, rises from her body.

Isis leans back on the bed, pulling me with her until I'm above her, my legs straddling hers. We don't break the kiss. I feel a smooth flesh pass my lips and enter my mouth. Isis's tongue. I feel it touch my own tongue, then retreat back into her mouth. I copy her, and a shiver runs down my back as she lightly presses her sharp teeth on my tongue.

After maybe a minute, I don't know, time really isn't an issue anymore, Isis pulls her lips away from mine. I pant for breath as I look down at her. There's a tense look in her eyes as she spreads her legs, and her grip on my shoulders tighten. I take a deep breath to steady myself, then move my body so my hips are above hers. If there's any difference between Isis's sex and a humans, I can't tell, and neither does my lower body care right now. I brace my hands on the mattress next to Isis's shoulders, and I get ready to begin.

There's a low rumble from the witness bench, and like an idiot I glance over again. There's nothing subtle about Chaor's appearance now. His mouth is slightly open, and his tongue is hanging out. His skin glistens with sweat, and his chest shudders with each breath. His tail is no longer dragging on the ground, instead raised and stiff, and one of his trembling hands clenches the edge of the bench while the other hovers in front of his stomach and over his groin. His loincloth has failed its purpose, and his arousal is plainly visible. Chaor's hand descends, and every one of his muscles tense as he wraps it around his erect penis.

Nope, that's too much. I can't perform knowing Chaor will be jerking himself off as he watches. How are Theb-sarr and Sobtjek not noticing?

Isis touches my cheek a third time to bring my attention back to her. I see her glance down, and it looks like she's chewing the inside of her cheek. A hand reaches down and **whoa**! My body shudders as Isis touches me, and I feel my groin begin to ache again.

Isis lifts her head towards me and whispers in my ear, "Don't think about it, just do what your body tells you. This is just a ritual, we can figure things out later while we're alone."

I shudder as Isis continues to massage new life into my arousal, and finally it's too much. I sit up, grab Isis by the hips, and press myself forward. Isis takes her hand away, grabs the sheets next to her head, and clenches her eyes shut and her teeth together.

My body touches hers. I meet resistance, and I push harder. My breath catches in my throat as my length penetrates and slides in.

Isis lets out a yell, and I see Theb-sarr flinch out of the corner of my eye. I pause, then lower my head and whisper, "Are you alright?"

Isis clenches her teeth together and nods. "I-I'm fine... don't worry..."

It's hard to continue, but I manage. It doesn't take before I feel my body start to take over, and within minutes Isis and I have wrapped our arms around the other. My body aches, my head feels light, and-

And everything is blank for a moment. The only things I can feel are the pounding of my heart and a warm rush starting in my groin and rippling outwards...

When my senses return, maybe seconds later, maybe minutes, I don't know, my hips are pressed firmly against Isis's body. Sweat is dripping from my face, and my breaths come sharp and shallow. My back hurts, and I realize that Isis is digging her nails into my skin. She's also gasping for breath, though through clenched teeth, and her eyes are still squeezed shut.

A shadow falls over us, and I hear Sobtjek's nearby voice say, "Ancient Powers, I present this mated couple to you. May you bless their union, that it be fru..." His voice trails off mid-word. When he speaks again, he seems to have skipped a couple sentences. "I... I dub you Prince Osiris and Princess Isis, husband and wife."

There are more voices. Theb-sarr seems to be raising his voice at Chaor, but somehow I suddenly feel unnaturally drained, and I can't understand what is being said. Isis too seems to relax, and her hold on me slackens. I lower myself to the side, shivering as my body slide off and out of hers, and I lie beside her. There's a faint smell of blood and other bodily fluid...

The last thing my mind registers is Sobtjek's voice, saying, "Let's take your discussion out of the room. They must rest now, a blessing from the Ancient Powers can be very draining..."

Everything fades. I know I'm not dying, but it feels uncomfortably like it...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Waking Night  
**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	42. The Waking Night

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Waking Night**

-[]-[]-[]-

The fog in my mind is clearing up... I can feel fabric on and below my body, and I can hear soft breathing beside me. I try to open my eyes. Ugh, it's difficult, my eyelids feel heavy. I try harder and force my eyes open.

With great difficulty, I sit up and look around. It's dark, though the moonlight coming in through the window is enough to let me see the shapes of my surroundings. I look to my left to see Isis's sleeping form, covered in a blanket.

Wait, window? The room we'd been in had no windows. I stroke my hand across the mattress. This isn't the same bed either. I push the blanket off myself. I'm clean. Had we been bathed while we were asleep, then put into a bed in a new room?

That's a little creepy.

I flip the blanket off, and I shiver in the cold air. I look around for my clothes. There, on a table. It's my robe. I slip it on before heading for the window.

I look out, and I see the courtyard. The tables and benches are still there from the celebration, illuminated by torchlight and moonlight, but there's nobody sitting there. Just like any other night, really. The only difference if which window I'm looking out at it from.

The quarter moon is low in the sky. It will still be several hours before the sun rises.

I hear the sound of a mattress shifting. I look over at the bed to see Isis is sitting up and holding the covers to her chest. "It's not morning yet," she says.

I head back to the bed and sit down, turning my body to face Isis. "I know, Princess. I just wanted to look outside."

"It's not 'Princess' to you anymore," Isis huffs. She leans forward and presses the covers closer to her chest.

"Sorry, Isis," I correct myself.

Isis glances at me. "Michael or Osiris?" she asks.

"Huh?" I'm a tad slow right now.

"Which name do you want me to call you?" Isis elaborates. "Michael or Osiris?"

Wow, I really should have been able to figure that one out on my own. "Just Michael," I say. "It'll be a long time before I'll get used to Osiris"

I see half a smirk appear on Isis's face. "You've heard the name Osiris before."

"How'd you guess?" I ask. It's going to be something obvious, I know it.

"Your reaction when Sobtjek said the name," Isis says. "How do you know it?"

I wonder how Isis will react... "In the mythology of ancient Egypt, an empire in Earth's past, Osiris and Isis were the names of two of their gods. Osiris was the god of the afterlife, the underworld and the dead."

"The Underworld?" Isis asks with wide eyes.

I shake my head. "No, not what you're thinking. The Egyptian underworld was a place spirits traveled through and... well there's a lot more, but I'm getting off track."

Isis nods, eyes still wide. "And you said there was a god named Isis?"

"A goddess," I correct. "She's a little more difficult to figure out, but she was probably the goddess who protected the dead. She was Osiris's sister and wife."

"Sister **and** wife?" Isis asks incredulously. "That-"

I start laughing. I can't help it. Isis silently stares at me for a few moments.

When I can breathe again, I say, "Sorry about that. I'm just reminded how screwed up royal marriages in Earth's past were."

"I see," Isis mutters as she looks down at the blanket. It's too dark to see any patterns that might be on it.

We're silent for a while, then I turn to Isis. "So... what happens tomorrow?"

Isis turns to me. "We probably get paraded through the streets, then taken to various major cities so the other Humans living in Mipedian lands know what's going on."

"Sounds pleasant," I mutter.

"Was that sarcasm?" Isis says.

I nod.

Isis chews on the inside of her cheek. "You're right. It won't be very enjoyable." She puts her feet on the floor and slowly stands up, still clutching the blanket to her body. Her movements are stiff as she walks to the window.

I also get off the bed and head for the window. I stand beside her as we look out.

"Does the sky look the same on Earth?" Isis asks.

I frown and shake my head. "In general, yes, but Perim's sky is brighter, clearer. There aren't many places on Earth where you can see quite this many stars at night. There's usually to much light on the ground or pollution in the air for starts to shine through." I decide not to mention how our sunsets differ. Though Earth's are more colorful, I've grown to love the sunsets here more.

"Ah," Isis breathes, her voice shaking as she shivers.

"Let's get you back in bed," I say.

Isis nods and turns from the window. She heads for the bed, sits, then lies back down. I take off my robe, hang it from a chair, and lie beside her before pulling the blanket so it covers me as well. Isis rolls over and drapes an arm over my chest before rolling me on my side and pulling me closer to her. I can feel her breasts press against my chest. I can smell that enigmatic desert flower perfume on her scales. I can feel the smooth scales of her hand rubbing my side.

Isis lightly kisses my lips. "I've spent the last five days worrying about who I'd marry. So many possibilities were crowding my mind, I started to have nightmares about them."

"What kind of nightmares?" I ask.

Isis cringes. "Well... the worst one was that I'd be married to someone who enjoyed hurting people..."

Right, I will **not** tell her how close that was to happening. "Sounds awful..."

"It was," Isis agrees.

I pinch my eyebrows together. "What if we'd chosen a woman as a leader?" I ask.

"Then Father would have married her," Isis says as if I should have already known that.

Yeah, let's not imagine that, Michael.

Isis runs a hand through my hair, then closes her eyes and presses her lips to mine again. I close my eyes as well. I feel my heart race.

Isis pulls away and breathes heavily. "You have a strange smile on your face. What are you thinking?"

Was I smiling? Well, if I was, I know why. "It's kind of amusing, actually. This whole relationship is flipped around on its head."

There's a confused look in Isis's eyes. "I'm not sure I understand."

I let out a small laugh. "We're a husband and wife spending our first night as a couple getting to know each other. This wouldn't happen back on Earth. We would have already known each other very well before marrying, and we'd probably be spending the night testing how much punishment the mattress would take."

"Human euphemisms for having sex are so odd sometimes," Isis sighs as she rolls on her back.

"Yes we do," I mutter as I copy her.

There's an awkward silence. After a while, Isis asks, "Was **I** ever in that show or game Humans say Perim is similar to?"

I shake my head. "Not at all, neither were most civilians from any tribe. If you weren't a fighter, then you didn't have a card." Then I remember Bodal. "Well, you **usually** didn't have a card."

Isis turns her head to me. "I sense an amusing story behind that, but it will have to wait. I'm exhausted... but..." She yawns. "...But I don't know if I can go to sleep again tonight..."

Maybe I can help... I roll on my side and place a hand on Isis's stomach. "I can help you relax."

I feel Isis shiver as she closes her eyes. I slide my hand up her body, then caress the underside of her breasts.

Isis takes a deep breath, then slowly lets it out.

I massage her bosom with my hand for a while, then slide my hand down again. My hand passes her waist, her hips...

Isis gasps and pulls away from me. My hand recoils. "Is something wrong?" I ask frantically.

"No," Isis breathes. "I just want to wait before you... put yourself inside me again. I'm still hurting from our first time..."

"Oh." I move so I'm lying on my back again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Isis sits up and turns to me. "Michael, don't apologize. You did what you were supposed to, and the only reason it hurt was because-"

"Okay!" I say a little louder than I meant. "I get it!" Gah, this turned awkward fast.

Isis lays back down with her back facing me and folds her arms.

...I feel awful. "I shouldn't have freaked out like that... sorry."

"We'll try again later," Isis mutters. "I just want to sleep right now..."

I spend the rest of my time awake staring at the ceiling. Eventually Isis's breathing lulls me to sleep.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Tour**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	43. The Tour

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Tour**

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There are large, six legged lizards that lives in the desert called dexims. They have black scales with yellow stripes, small yellow eyes, and blue tongues. Mipedians sometimes use dexims to pull chariots.

The chariot Isis and I are riding in this morning is being pulled by two dexims. The chariot is made of dark, dense wood with gold trim, and the dexims' harnesses are also gold-plated. Our driver... I actually don't know what he looks like, because he's driving while invisible.

Chaor left early in the morning. Isis and I watched from our bedroom window as his tank-carriage was pulled by. Lilth was sitting beside him, and I could swear I saw a bite mark on her shoulder that wasn't there before. Anyway, now that the Underworlders are gone, it's our turn to be paraded through the streets.

"Hail Prince Osiris and Princess Isis!" a Mipedian walking in front of us calls out. Several Humans who hear it hesitate before applauding with the rest of the audience.

"Hm," Isis hums to herself. "I would wager that all the confused looking Humans are familiar with the Egyptian mythology of Earth's past."

"I sure wouldn't bet against you on that," I mutter.

"You **must** tell me more about the Egyptian Isis and Osiris one of these days," Isis insists. "I'd like to know what associations our names hold for Humans."

"Maybe later." I plaster a smile on my face and wave at the crowd.

-[]-[]-[]-

After maybe an hour or so of being paraded around, I realize I recognize several buildings we're passing. "Excuse me, driver?" I say to the air in front of me. "Could you stop for a moment?"

The chariot gradually comes to a halt, and I hoist myself over the side to the ground.

"Something wrong?" Isis asks as she watches me.

I shake my head. "I just need to thank someone."

I look through the crowd, and there he is. The crowd moves to let me pass as I walk forward.

"Sett!" I call out.

Sett looks like he's not quite sure how to respond. "Prince Osiris?" he finally says.

I close my eyes and sigh. "I think you of all people are allowed to call me Michael." I stop in front of Sett and lower my voice. "You **did** make all of this possible."

Sett holds his hands behind his back and looks at the ground. "Well, then... Michael, are you saying goodbye?"

I know what he's worried about. "Oh, come on. I don't think **that** much has changed. It's not like I'll be restricted to the palace, right? We'll see each other."

Sett looks up. "I see." A small grin forms on his face. "Well, be careful."

I blow air out of my lungs and laugh. "Hey, what could happen?"

-[]-[]-[]-

**Stupid** Michael. You **never** taunt fate like that.

"You expect **me** to teach him how to handle a weapon?" Mudeenu says with bared teeth.

Theb-sarr glares at his adopted son. "Yes, Mudeenu. Osiris needs to be able to defend himself, to be ready to fight if he needs to. You will be captain of the guard tomorrow, and one of your duties will be training, both the guard **and** Osiris."

I'm going to have to get used to the name Osiris soon. Theb-sarr doesn't refer to me by Michael anymore.

"Why not Iflar?" Mudeenu growls under his breath.

Theb-sarr must have heard. "Because Iflar needs to prepare for when he rules, and might I add that even though he dislikes **his** training, he is still following through with his duties?"

Mudeenu clenches his teeth together. "When do I start?" he hisses.

"The actual training will start after your promotion," Theb-sarr says, "but you will give Osiris a tour of the training grounds at the barracks immediately."

"Very well," Mudeenu says, his voice dripping with venom. "Follow me, **Osiris**."

I make sure to stand far enough away from Mudeenu so that he doesn't "accidentally" hit me with an arm or tail or anything else. It's a little nerve-wracking to be alone with him.

The barracks are behind the palace. I see a few Mipedians relaxing. I recognize a few, including Malvadine. They all stand at attention as Mudeenu and I approach.

"At ease," Mudeenu snorts as he passes. "Just showing **Michael** around the place."

If Mudeenu thinks he can feel better by not using my new name, he can go right ahead. It's not like I care.

Malvadine gives me a grin and a salute as I pass him. Mudeenu grumbles under his breath when he sees that.

We reach a ring in the sand. Mudeenu turns to me and says, "Tomorrow, I will train you here. You will come every morning, and you will practice until mid-day. If you're late, I will beat the tar out of you. If you slack off, I will beat the s*** out of you." Mudeenu leans in my face and growls, "If you give me any mouth, any smart talk, I will beat the ever living **f***** out of you. **Twice**. Are we clear?"

My body feels like ice. "Crystal clear," I say. It's a miracle that I didn't stammer.

"Since when do **you** use Human profanities?" a soldier behind me asks.

Mudeenu stands up straight and points at the Mipedian. "Feel very fortunate that I'm not your captain yet. My rules go for everyone, not just Michael."

If Mipedians were capable of paling, the soldier Mudeenu's pointing at would be white as a ghost.

-[]-[]-[]-

Theb-sarr clasps his hands together in front of him with interlaced fingers. "Even with a symbolic position, you are bound to have several requests from your tribe. So, when you are finished training with Mudeenu in the mornings, you will return to your room. There will be a list on your table. Complete the items on the list. It doesn't matter how worn out you are from training. I will make sure you only receive requests you can actually do something about, so no excuses if you do not complete them."

Yeah, princedom isn't all it's hyped up to be.

-[]-[]-[]-

"You look stressed, Michael," Isis says.

I'm sitting on the bed, pressing my fingers to my temples. My hair is a mess, my teeth are clenched, and my heart is racing. "What was your first clue," I mutter.

"I'm **trying** to help," Isis says with a frown.

I cringe. "Sorry. Your father just spent the past three hours showing me how to do things. I swear I'm going to see that list on my table tomorrow afternoon and forget all of it."

Isis sits beside me. "Well, I'm here to help you if you do forget."

I sigh and let myself fall backwards on the bed. "It all starts tomorrow... I'm not ready for this..."

"Who **would** be?" Isis asks.

"Chuck Norris," I mutter.

Isis blinks. "Who?"

And so I spent the rest of the conversation explaining the joke.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Captain of the Guard**

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**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	44. The Captain of the Guard

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Captain of the Guard**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Michael!" a voice says firmly. I feel something shaking my body.

I groan and roll over, hugging the covers closer to me.

"Michael!" It's suddenly very cold as the blanket is torn off me.

I sit up and blink. "Huh?" I rub my eyes. "Morning Isis..." It's a little odd still, waking up next to her.

"You missed Mudeenu's promotion!" Isis says while staring at me.

I turn my head side to side, stretching out the stiffness in my neck. "Good for him..."

Isis looks exasperated. "Did you forget what you need to do in the morning?"

"What in the morning?" I mumble. Then it hits me. "**Crap**! I'm not late for training, am I?"

"You will be if you don't hurry!" Isis says, grabbing a plain robe and tossing it at me. "Get moving!"

-[]-[]-[]-

I could not have look less like a prince if I had tried. I'm out of breath and there's sweat and sand all over my robe. It's a good thing Isis gave me a plain one, my royal robe would have been ruined given this treatment.

Everyone's staring at me as I make it to the barracks. "Hey," I gasp, putting my hands on my knees and breathing hard. "Am I late?"

"I don't think so," a Mipedian in leather armor says. "Prince Mudeenu isn't here yet." He raises an eye ridge at me. "And I thought Humans were trained in the evening."

His neighbor elbows him. "That's Prince Osiris! Show some respect!"

I close my eyes and sigh, then straighten up and stand with the Mipedians. Everyone's in a row and waiting. Several minutes pass.

"Are we early?" a Mipedian asks.

Nobody answers him. After a few seconds, there's a flicker in the air in front of us, and Mudeenu suddenly appears in front of us. He's no longer wearing a simple black breastplate. Instead he has a full set of plate armor, colored black, except for the chest which is a dark blue with a pearl-colored stripe, and trimmed with gold. At the bottom of his sternum is a symbol of a dragons head, and on the sides of his shoulders is a symbol that looks a lot like the Egyptian Eye of Horus. He still has his blue cape, though. Actually, didn't I see him wearing this armor in his "Champion of the Guard" picture in the card game?

Mudeenu bares his teeth. "Did you all enjoy waiting for me?"

Nobody answers.

Mudeenu barks, "I **said**, 'Did you all enjoy waiting for me?'"

"No, Prince Mudeenu," someone mutters.

Mudeenu points in the direction of the voice. "There's a good soldier! Answering when he's asked a question! Everyone follow along with him! I said, 'Did you all enjoy waiting for me?'"

Everyone, including me, shouts, "No, Prince Mudeenu!"

"Then don't ever make **me** wait for **you**!" Mudeenu bellows. "You'll be here at the crack of dawn every morning unless I say otherwise! Is that clear?!"

"Yes, Prince Mudeenu!"

Mudeenu points at the crowd. "Now all of you are used to me being a Prince. Here, though, I am your captain, and you will address me as such. You will end all of you sentences addressed to me with Captain while we're training. Not Prince, not Prince Mudeenu, not even Captain Mudeenu. Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Good!" Mudeenu puts his hands behind his back. "Now, some of you may have heard this before, but I will reiterate. There are punishments for causing trouble." He shouts, "If you're late, I will beat the tar out of you! If you slack off, I will beat the s*** out of you! If you give me any lip, I will beat the ever living **f***** out of you! **Twice**! Are we clear?!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Yikes, that was almost exactly the same as how he threatened me yesterday.

Captain looks down the line. "I see that most of you are wearing your armor. Others of you are wearing ordinary clothing. Strip. Now."

There are surprised mutters down the line. Someone says, "Captain? Why-?"

A piece of cloth flies through the air at the Mipedian who spoke. "I said strip! Those of you who can fully retract your penises can stop there! If your penis is too large to fully retract, or if you feel more comfortable with clothing on, you wear one of those!" He starts tossing pieces of cloth at various Mipedians.

Several Mipedians snicker.

Mudeenu glares at the crowd. "Who's laughing?!"

The snickers stop.

"I **thought** so," Mudeenu mutters loudly before tossing a piece of cloth at me.

The cloth hits me in the face, and I pull it off. It's a... it's a loincloth. This particular kind is basically a leather strip meant to be tied around the waist with a rectangle of cloth hanging over the privates. It's... not the best way to maintain your dignity. A particularly strong gust of wind could lift it up.

I give Mudeenu an incredulous look. He glares daggers right back at me. I quickly put it on under my robe before taking my robe off.

The Mipedian rookies all finish, and we're all standing awkwardly in a row again. Mudeenu walks down the line, nodding. "Very good. Now, run to the south gate and back, everyone!"

"What?" someone shouts.

Mudeenu puts his index finger and thumb very close together. "That was **this** close to giving me lip! **Run** to the **f***ing south gate** and **back! **_**NOW!**_"

I bolt. Mudeenu means business.

-[]-[]-[]-

My days of working at the dew farm and training under Sett have done me well. I'm only half-dead by the time I make it back to the barracks. I'm not the first one back, heck no, but at least I made it.

"Pushups, now," Mudeenu growls when I come into view.

"Yes, Cap**tain**!" My voice almost becomes a squeak when I see him. Mudeenu's now wearing nothing but one of those loincloths he gave everyone. He's... well, he's got pretty much the same muscle mass as Chaor. It's very intimidating.

I take too long to drop to the ground, so Mudeenu pushes me down. "Fifty pushups. Hands shoulder width apart, chest all the way down so it touches your hands."

If I hadn't already been hardened by a solan of life in Al Mipedim, I wouldn't have even it to even **five** pushups. I'm at around forty pushups when my arms give out, though. Mudeenu doesn't say anything while I lie on the ground, panting.

When everyone makes it back to the barracks, most of them ready to collapse, Mudeenu barks, "Everyone back in line!"

It takes a while for everyone to get back on their feet and in line. When everyone does so, Mudeenu points at me. "Michael, stand in front of me."

There are mutters among the Mipedians as I hesitantly step forward. Mudeenu glares at them. "Yes, I called him Michael. Yes, I know he's Prince Osiris. While he's here, though, he's not a prince, he's a rookie."

Ouch, Mudeenu. We get it.

Mudeenu turns to a wooden rack, grabs something from it, then walks back and thrusts it into my arms. "Hit me with it."

I look down at the object he handed me. "Uh, this is a sword."

Mudeenu nods. "Hit me with it."

"Okay..." I look at Mudeenu. "Where?"

Mudeenu bares his teeth and growls, "Anywhere."

He's probably going to demonstrate how to block or disarm when you don't have a weapon. I grip the sword with both hands and look around for where I'll hit. How about his chest? I take a step forward, twist my body, and swing the sword in a wide arc. As the sword approaches Mudeenu, I watch for his reaction.

Mudeenu doesn't do anything. The sword hits him directly on his left pectoral muscle and bounces off. There isn't even a gash in his scales. The momentum of the rebounding sword knocks me off my feet, and I land on my butt in the sand.

Mudeenu bends over and takes the sword away from me. He holds it up and states, "You will be training with blunted weapons! You will be training with low-charge weapons! It will still hurt like hell when you get hit!"

"That doesn't look like it hurt at all," someone says with a laugh.

Mudeenu's face darkens. He marches towards the line, grabs a Mipedian by the back of the neck, and drags him in front of everyone. "Back in line, Michael," he snarls.

I hurry back to the line.

Mudeenu growls at the Mipedian he's holding, "That was lip."

The Mipedian already looked scared. Now he looks terrified.

Mudeenu releases the Mipedian's neck and swings the blunted sword into his stomach. The Mipedian doubles over and yells. Mudeenu withdraws the sword and slams it on the Mipedian's back. The Mipedian collapses.

"Stand up," Mudeenu says.

The Mipedian's arms and legs tremble as he gets to his hands and knees. Mudeenu grabs the back of his neck and stands him up. Then he swings the sword into his chest, then each shoulder.

The Mipedian collapses on the ground, curls up in a ball, and sobs. Mudeenu gets on one knee and lowers his head towards the crying rookie. "Please inform everyone how much that hurt."

The Mipedian is sobbing so much he can't speak. Mudeenu stands up and raise the sword. "These weapons will still hurt like hell! Anyone else want to contradict me?"

"No, Captain!"

"Good." Mudeenu lowers the sword. "Tomorrow we will spend our whole training session with these swords. You will not make it out of training unscathed tomorrow. Dismissed!"

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Art of Public Speaking**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	45. The Art of Public Speaking

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Art of Public Speaking**

-[]-[]-[]-

I normally feel relaxed at the bathhouse. Usually I'm there early in the morning, before the sun rises, so the heat inside is a pleasant contrast to the cold night air. Putting the cleaning oil on my body and removing it myself wakes me up and makes me feel ready to begin the day.

Today, though, I'm trudging into the bathhouse out of the blistering heat of high noon, and the transition from the heat of the sun to the heat of the room is aggravating. The invisible servants immediately undress and begin cleaning me as I enter the heated room, and the lack of control over the pace and my own exhaustion combined ruin my ability to enjoy it. Seriously, it's not relaxing for some unseen hand to scrub your privates, it's **terrifying**!

The invisible servants dress me in my robes while ignoring my protests that I can do it myself. Afterwords, a loaf of bread, about the size of a sandal, is put into my hand. My stomach reminds me that I missed breakfast, and I take a bite as I head for my room. Hm, small chucks of meat were baked into the bread. It's actually pretty good.

-[]-[]-[]-

Isis is reading along with me as I examine the papers left on my desk. She has a hand on each of my shoulders, and if I leaned back a bit my head would touch her stomach. It's a little distracting.

I flip the paper I'm holding over. On the back is a column of words, each associated with a number. I glance down the page and mutter, "Isis, why has your father given me a list of taxes collected? Doesn't **he** control that?"

"It might be a good thing for you to know," Isis says, not sounding sure herself.

I shrug, set the paper down, and return my attention to my list of tasks. The first item is basically a listing of the various people wanting an interview with me, along with a suggestion from Theb-sarr to **not** give interviews until I've been at the palace a while. That item was resolved with a few quick rejection letters. The second item was to familiarize myself with the documents, which that tax paper had been a part of. Check.

The third item is a little baffling. "Water quality speech?" I ask nobody in particular.

Isis crouches until her jaw is touching the upper tip of my ear and says, "It's not that difficult. You need to give a speech to an interest group. They've been complaining about the restricted access to the oasis proper. You'll simply need to explain to them **why** the water's off-limits."

My attention had been focused more on the fact that Isis was pressing her breasts against my back as she looked at the list. "...Oh, right," I say after a pause. "That's at five o'clock, right?"

Al Mipedim, and apparently most of Perim, had started to adopt the Human way of naming the time. Traditionalists like Mudeenu still insisted on naming the time by the position of the sun, but even they now know what a Human means by "o'clock".

"Correct," Isis says. "You'll need to put a speech together. I can show you where you can find the information."

"That would be nice." I feel my voice tremble.

Isis definitely heard the change in my voice. "Well, we... **do** have several hours before then." Her hands trail off my shoulder and onto my chest. "Maybe you just want to unwind? ...Enjoy a little alone time together?" She sounds hesitant, like she has to take a moment to think about whether she really wants to say what she's saying.

...She thinks I want to sleep with her right now. Is that really what I sounded like? The truth is, all of this hanging onto me, all this touching... it's starting to make me anxious. I mean, I don't really **know** Isis! We spoke **once** before this arranged marriage, and all I gathered from that conversation was that she knew who I was because I made an impression on King Theb-sarr.

"I... uh... Isis..." I mumble. Great, I'm stammering like an idiot.

Isis's hands slip under my robe and drag down my stomach. "It should be better than our first time..." There's that voice again, the one that sounds like she's trying to reassure herself as well as me. "That Underworlder isn't here, my father's not here, and I'm not a virgin anymore, so it shouldn't hurt this time."

I cringe. Hearing it like that doesn't make me feel much better. My posture feels stiff and awkward.

Isis must have misunderstood the cringe. "Oh, you want to... um..." Her hands trail lower down my body. "I guess we can try something different-"

**Too much!** I wrap a trembling arm around my stomach, catching her hands before they can move any further. "Wait!" I say with an edge of panic to my voice. "I... I really should be using this extra time preparing... I've never actually **written** a speech before... so..."

Isis withdraws her hands. "Y-yes, of course. I understand." She sighs, and I can't tell if it's relief or disappointment in the sigh. "I-I'll show you where the records are kept."

-[]-[]-[]-

The question on the special interest group's mind is, "Why can't we get near the oasis?" Turns out the answer is pretty scary.

"I have a question," I say to the crowd of maybe two hundred Humans seated in front of me. "Who here has had a major illness since we arrived in Perim? If the answer is yes, raise your hand."

There are no raised hands. I speak again, "If the answer is **no**, raise your hand."

This time everyone raises a hand. I raise a hand myself and say, "Neither have I, and we have these restrictions the Mipedians placed for us to thank for it."

Someone in the crowd speaks up, "You aren't talking about the restricted access to the oasis, are you?"

"Yes," I say firmly, "and before you say anything else, that water's not as clean as you think it is."

The same voice speaks up, "Yeah, tell that to the Mipedians that are always in it."

I lean forward over the pulpit. "Mipedians who grew up in Al Mipedim have spent their whole lives building up an immune system capable of handling what's in that water. If the situation was reversed, if Mipedians ended up on Earth, they'd have to live in sterilized bubbles."

The man shuts up, but another person stands up to speak. "What do you mean by that?"

I resist the urge to press my forehead into my palm. "All right, who here knows what the immune system is?"

Everyone raises their hands. I continue, "Imagine having no immune system **at all**. Any pathogen that got you would have free reign over your body, and you could die very quickly. I don't know of any Earth equivalent, but imagine your brainstem slowly melting."

Several people wince. I place my hands on the pulpit. "There's stuff like **that** in that water. It's why the dew farms suddenly needed so many new workers when we Humans arrived. There's stuff in there that Humans have never been exposed to. An unlucky Mipedian might run a fever after catching it, but a Human might actually die."

Someone hesitantly raises a hand. "I-if there are bacteria or whatever that deadly to us in Perim, then why haven't any of us gotten sick at all?"

"Good question," I say. "Everyone should have received a stack of papers. I see that nobody has looked through them. Solve that now and look at..." I glance at my notes, "and look at page eight."

The sound of paper being handled. "What's this?" somebody asks.

"That is a list of where those taxes everyone moans about is going," I say. "Notice where the most money is going to?"

There's silence for a while. Then someone mutters, "Uh, research in Human medicine, treatment, and preventive measures. Forty-one percent of Al Mipedim's taxes go into there."

"Did everyone notice that last part of the project's title?" I ask. "Preventive measures. Measures such as separating Humans from the water that could possibly kill them."

Maybe I was a little heavy-handed there. Maybe I could have handled the matter more delicately. What's important, though, is that nobody with a brain is going to complain about the restricted access to the oasis water anymore, and I did it all in less than an hour.

"Mic- I mean, Prince Osiris, could we see the research that's been done so far."

...It's going to be a long night...

-[]-[]-[]-

It's maybe nine by the time I make it back to my bedroom. There's a tray with dinner on it outside my door, and I eat it. I don't even know what I ate, I paid so little attention to it.

Inside my room, Isis is lying curled up on the bed. The sheets are wrinkled, the blanket is facing the wrong direction, and Isis looks exhausted. She doesn't react as I sit down on the bed.

I'll worry about whatever this means later. I just want to sleep.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Eroding Days**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	46. The Eroding Days

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Eroding Days**

-[]-[]-[]-

Each rookie isa training with a veteran soldier today. We're using the blunt sword to spar, and the lesson is on how to block with your weapon. The veterans aren't taking it easy on us. This would be bad enough, but of all people, the one **I'm** sparring against is **Mudeenu**.

There's a flash as Mudeenu's sword catches the light, and I barely manage to brace my own sword against the impact. The force of the blow sends what feels like a bolt of lightning through my left arm, and the crash of metal against metal is deafening.

Mudeenu leaps back after the strike and holds his sword at his side. I stagger back and clutch my arm. If that swing had hit me, it could have broken my shoulder! ...Which might have been the point, actually...

I see Mudeenu's foot move forward, and I raise my sword to parry again. Our swords clash, but mine meets his at a bad angle, and the sword flies from my grip into the sand. Mudeenu quickly swings again, and blunt metal collides with my stomach.

I don't feel my body collapse in the sand. All I notice is my sudden inability to breath. As I lay curled up in the sand struggling for breath, Mudeenu reaches down and picks up my sword. "Swords aren't forks or pens, Michael," he sneers. "Hold it in your right hand, see if it's any faster or stronger." He trusts the sword into the sand in front of my face, then steps back and holds his sword at the ready again.

It takes me a long time to struggle to my feet, and I'm gasping for breath too hard to see straight. I weakly wrap my right hand around the sword's handle, and I yank it out of the sand. I look up in time to see Mudeenu's sword flash-

I'm on the ground again. **Ow**! Why the stomach again, Mudeenu? You already hit me there once...

-[]-[]-[]-

"Thank you for meeting with me, James," I say, trying to ignore the pain in my gut.

James, a pointy-nosed man with sun-bleached hair, grins in reply. There's a stressed out look to the grin.

I tap the papers I'm holding with my thumb. "His Majesty tasked me with reviewing your account." I look down at the first page. "Now, you report here a monthly wage of about nine hundred palms-"

"Is this really a prince's job?" James interrupts. "I mean, I'm certain there's someone lower down the ladder that could be doing this."

"You're right, this isn't a prince's job," I agree. "I'm doing it anyway."

James presses his lips together and twiddles his thumbs.

I look down at the page again. "Like I said, you reported a wage of about nine hundred palms. The question here is, why does your monthly balance report a wage closer to two thousand?"

"I'm... not sure what you mean," James mutters.

I set the papers down in front of me. "And the interesting thing is that all the extra money disappears about three days afterwords."

I see James's eyes flit over to the window. "I don't know what you mean by extra money."

"Hey, James," I say, tapping him on the shoulder. "Your employer isn't here. You can talk to me."

"H-he..." James chockes up a bit. "He told me not to say anything..."

"Trust me," I say. I pick up the papers and show them to him. "Now, is this the amount of money you were paid last week?"

James's neck tenses up, and he wrings his hands. He slowly nods.

I point further down the page. "And is this withdrawal really for paying rent?"

"Not... all of it," James admits.

I flip the page over. "And you didn't really buy **that** much water, did you?"

"No," James says, looking out the window again.

I glance at the window myself. "Want to know a secret, James?"

James raises an eyebrow. "Huh?"

I lean forward and lower my voice. "King Theb-sarr already knows that your employer is using his employees' wages to hide illegal income. All he needs is proof."

James looks out the window again. "H-he-"

"He can't fire you if he's replaced, can he?" I ask. "All that's stopping us from arresting him is solid proof."

James stares at me. "...I don't want my name on any record he has access to."

I nod. "That's within the king's power." I set the papers aside. "Now, to the real questions. Where exactly did last month's lost shipment of battlegear **really** end up?"

-[]-[]-[]-

Isis wants to talk about something. It's late, so maybe it can wait until tomorrow.

-[]-[]-[]-

I've been training for a week now. We're learning about the proper way to handle cyclances. Mudeenu is shouting out a list of horrible sounding accidents he witnessed, injuries caused by someone simply holding the cyclance the wrong way. It's nauseating.

At least target practice shouldn't be too painful. Cyclances don't have kickback, so there's-

"Also," Mudeenu adds, "the targets will be firing **back** at you!"

I stand corrected.

-[]-[]-[]-

Today I need to record, verify, and sign what is basically a birth certificate for the first Human born in Al Mipedim. The poor child's six weeks premature, but there's some hope for him.

Isis isn't with me. I'd ask where she is, but, well, it's a little awkward being around her still. I can actually focus right now.

-[]-[]-[]-

Two weeks into training. The rookies and I are being screened for mugical talent. There are three who pass. I'm not one of them. Big surprise. Back to sparring.

-[]-[]-[]-

I have to oversee a funeral. The baby... didn't make it...

-[]-[]-[]-

Isis is upset. She's spent the whole evening just staring out the window. I'm too distraught to really say anything to her.

-[]-[]-[]-

Happy Birthday, me. Mudeenu's present during training is a black eye. The rookies and I are training on how to avoid stuff like that. Mudeenu's literally not pulling his punches.

-[]-[]-[]-

"What happened to you face?" one of the Humans I'm meeting with asks.

"Learning how to avoid sucker punches," I growl as I sit down. My tone makes the Human shut up.

Blah blah blah, a thousand complaints I've heard before, a hundred new ones that are being written down for me so I can read them later. I'm only here so everyone has a face they can complain to.

Oh, great, there's a reporter. "Can someone get him out of here?" I call out while pointing at the man.

"Please, Prince Osiris," the man begs, "just one question?"

"Depends on the question," I mutter.

The man opens his mouth, then stops, as if he can't figure out which of his undoubtedly many questions to ask.

"You're wasting my time," I say as I turn away from him. "Make an appointment next time."

The man protests as a guard drags him away. I sigh and press my fingers to my temples. I turn to the next person.

"I'm suspicious of my husband," the woman there says. "Is there any way you could have someone follow him to see if he's being unfaithful?"

My heart freezes up. "Sure, yeah, sure." I turn to the guard at my left. "Could you spend the next, oh three days tailing this woman's husband?"

The guard slowly nods. I turn to the guard at my right. "Could you take over here? I need to turn in early." I point at my eye. "Need to make sure I don't aggravate this."

I don't even wait for the guard's answer, I just stand up and head for the door.

Why did that woman's words make me feel the way they did?

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Breaking Point**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	47. The Breaking Point

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Breaking Point**

-[]-[]-[]-

I can't even remember how long it's been since I became Prince Osiris. A month? Two months? The days have been blurring together.

I'm climbing the stairs to my room. I just left the open conference early, meaning that it's almost eleven o'clock as I climb the steps rather than midnight.

The woman had said, "Is there any way you could have someone follow him to see if he's being unfaithful?" What am I, a detective? Still, something about that was making me nervous.

Ugh, stop **worrying**, Michael. I'm just stressed, that's it. Getting beat half to death by Mudeenu each morning, my ever-growing list from Theb-sarr, and then I need to get my body hair plucked every three weeks... Yeah, that's all this is.

...Nope, I'm still a nervous wreck.

Just down this hallway, and I'll be at my door. I need to talk to Isis, that's it. I've been putting off talking to her for... how long has it been now? She's still as much a stranger to me as when we married. What kind of guy does that to his wife? ...Well, my father, but that's sort of the point, you don't do that.

I make it to mY door. It's slightly open. I stop, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Actually, Isis is probably asleep. I shouldn't wake her, this should just wait until tomorrow. I shake my head. No, that's the kind of thinking that caused it all. I'll just have to apologize for waking-

I hear a moan from my room.

I open my eyes. That sounded like...

I quietly draw close to my bedroom door and peek through the gap. There's Isis, lying on her back, naked. Her mouth is hanging open, her fingers are digging into the sheets, and her legs are spread open. Her body moves, like some unseen force is pressing into her hips, and she moans loudly again.

My heart feels frozen again. What... What am I looking at?

Isis cries out, and she wraps her legs around... well, nothing. No, not nothing. Her legs are wrapped around the waist of one of the palace servants. "F-faster," Isis says through gritted teeth, and the bed starts to shake. Isis moans louder and grabs her invisible lover by the shoulders, pulling him closer. I see her breasts press against an unseen chest.

I pull myself away from the door and turn around. That was... I can't believe I just saw that! How long has this been happening? How **could** she?

...Or is it my fault? I know I wasn't very good at talking with her. Why didn't she say anything? If she felt I was neglecting her... It was probably the same issue I had, maybe she didn't know how to talk to me about it. But still, cheating? I don't... I just don't...

I storm down the stairs. I'm going to sleep in the **kitchen** tonight.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's the next day. I'm limping slightly as I enter my bedroom. There's Isis. She's looking at my list of things to do today. I reach over her shoulder and snatch them out of her hands.

"Oh! Michael!" Isis turns around in the chair. "I... I need to tell you something."

I walk to the other side of the room and look at my list. "Save it," I mutter. Hm, the dew farms? Maybe I'll have time to see Sett. Ah, nope, he'll be off by then.

Isis blinks. "I really want to tell-"

"I'm **busy**," I say through gritted teeth.

Isis frowns and wrings her hands.

-[]-[]-[]-

Two weeks? Three? I can't remember.

"Michael, please," Isis says.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Not now."

-[]-[]-[]-

Half a solan has passed. Isis's stomach is larger. So, she's pregnant, huh? Goodie, maybe she can tell the father. Won't **he** be pleased as punch.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's been ten months since I became Prince Osiris, almost two solans. Almost a year.

My body aches. My **soul** aches. Every morning I head for the barracks to be beaten up by Mudeenu. Every afternoon I deal with the problems of the Human population. Every night I drop off immediately to sleep upon hitting the mattress.

Isis's child is due any day now, I'm certain of it. I try not to think of it. I can't bear the thought.

I'm heading up the stairs. My chest is covered in bandages. Mudeenu really got me bad today. Oh well, time to attend my princely duties.

I enter my room. Isis isn't here. Good, I won't be distracted. I head for my desk.

There's only one paper there. In large, capital letters are the words, "TALK TO ISIS! NOW!"

...What?

I pick up the paper. That's definitely Theb-sarr's handwriting. I throw the paper. It slows down moments after it leaves my hand and floats to the ground.

Fine. I'm going to talk to Isis. King's orders, after all. Now where the **hell** is she?

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Way the Sky Shatters**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	48. The Way the Sky Shatters

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Way the Sky Shatters**

-[]-[]-[]-

I don't ask anyone for help searching for Isis. Maybe I should, but I just want to do this by myself. I don't even have that small army of servants that seem to follow me everywhere. I'd said aloud that I wanted Isis and my conversation to be just between us.

I don't even know what I'm going to say, and the length of time I've spent searching hasn't given me an opportunity to think of anything. I can't find her. She's not in the palace, not in the courtyard, nowhere I'm expecting her to be.

"Are you looking for Princess Isis?" a voice says.

I turn. It's Maliph. How long has it been since we've last spoken? "Yes," I say.

Maliph gives his head a small jerk, towards the walls. "She's been spending all day up there, just walking."

"Thanks," I mutter as I head for a tower in the wall.

-[]-[]-[]-

There she is. Slowly walking, staring at the sky. Her hands are resting on her stomach with her fingers interlaced.

I take a step towards her. I can already feel my blood boiling.

Before I can say anything, Isis speaks, "Do you know the old Mipedian myth for why it never rains in the desert?"

"I don't want to talk about myths and stories right now," I grunt. Seriously! Can't she tell how pissed I am?

Isis turns her head to look at me. "No, you don't. You don't want to talk to me. You don't want to listen to me." She turns and advances towards me. "You don't want to touch me, to hold me..." She grabs my hand and places it on her stomach. I feel a bump from inside her. "Do you even care, Prince Osiris?"

...Isis never called me Osiris. She knows I don't like the name. I pull my hand away. "Well, I'm talking to you **now**. Happy?"

"No!" Isis suddenly shrieks. "I wanted to talk to you a long time ago! Every time I get close to you, you put a wall up between us!"

Yes, I had been doing that... but this isn't **about** that!

Isis holds her stomach. "Do you know how many times I tried to tell you we were going to have a baby?"

"What do you mean 'we'," I snap, my fists clenched and shaking. "Don't you mean you? You and whatever palace servant you've had an affair with for who knows how long now?"

"What affair?" Isis shouts.

"I saw you!" I scream. It takes every ounce of control I have not to grab and shake her. "I saw you screwing with another man! At the beginning of my forty-eighth solan!" I can feel my pulse in my neck, sweat on my palms. My body is trembling, my cheeks stretched taut. My mouth is dry, and my teeth grind together.

"That was a **harem**-servant!" Isis shrieks and clutches her head. "I needed to bear an heir!"

"A... what?" Did I hear that correctly?

Isis grits her teeth and glares at me. "Do you think you're the first non-Mipedian to marry into the royal family? You're **not**." She lets out a strangled cry. "Do you think the line just **ends** when that happens?"

I stammer, "S-so, that servant... He was basically a sperm donor?"

"Is that what you Humans call it?" Isis shrieks. "Yes! My 'affair' stopped the day I was sure I was pregnant! I tried to tell you, Osiris!" She grabs my shoulders and screams, "I was trying to **tell** you! **We were supposed to be happy!**"

...I'm the world's most vile monster. I didn't even **try** to understand. I feel my body sag, the rage and fury fueling it draining away. I feel heavy. I feel ill.

Isis releases my shoulders and stumbles backwards. Her back hits the wall, and she slides down it. She folds her arms on top of her knees, rests her face against her arms, and sobs.

A drop of rain splashes between us. Any other circumstance, that would have been the most exciting thing ever. Now, I barely even notice it.

"Isis," I mutter. I don't know whether to move away, to give her space, or to approach and comfort her. I'm paralyzed between the options, standing dead still.

Isis's fingers dig into her legs, and her shoulders shake.

...Michael, you have done this woman so much harm through your unwillingness to act. There she is, crying, because of **you**. Fix it. **Now**.

I take a step forward. "Isis, I'm so sorry..."

Isis doesn't react, she continues to cry.

There are more raindrops. The sky is getting dark. I walk up to Isis and kneel in front of her. "I've been such a horrible person. A horrible husband. I tried to use my own logic on all of this. Earth's logic. I didn't take the time to see how everything works here, in Perim. In Al Mipedim."

There are now sheets of rain coming down. Somewhere on the ground I can hear shouts of joy. There are so many dark, angry clouds in the sky that they blot the sun out. I can barely see.

I sit down beside Isis. "I swear, ask me anything. Tell me to do anything, and I'll do it. Whatever you want."

Isis's voice is laced with venom as she speaks. "Die in a ditch, Osiris." A flash of lightning illuminates the sky as she says this, and there is so much fury there...

I don't hear the thunder.

Die in a ditch.

...Maybe I should.

Next life, I'll end up in Chaor's throne room again. I can simply do nothing and let him burn me to death. After that, Kiru City. That will be easy, all I have to do is fall. Then Mount Pillar, and provoking Odu-Bathax.

Then I can start over in Al Mipedim. I can do things right, then. I can stage an intervention for Sett long before I did this time. I can campaign to be the Human tribe's representative in the royal family long before Chaor forces Theb-sarr's hand. And I can be there for Isis when she needs me.

I look at the wall separating me from the long drop to the ground outside Al Mipedim. I stand up and start to climb over.

A hand grabs my ankle. "What are you doing?" Isis call out.

I look down. The anger in her face has vanished. I quietly say, "Finding a ditch."

Isis's eyes widen. "It just came out of my mouth!" she shouts with a panicky voice. "I didn't mean it!"

...What do I do now? Do I die? Start over? Make sure she doesn't ever experience the pain I put her through? Or do I stay? Try to piece together Isis's shattered heart?

Both of Isis's hands are grabbing my ankle now. "Osiris, **no**! Don't do it! I'm sorry!"

I look down at her. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

Isis latches on my leg. Her arms press down, smashing muscle against bone. Pain shoots through my body. Isis screeches, "Stop it! Stop it stop it **stop it**! _**MICHAEL!**_"

The sky shatters with a crack of lightning and a roar of thunder. The rain is pouring down, and the thirsty desert is drinking it up. And all that pales compared to the sound of Isis's voice, to the look on her face.

...No. I will not be a coward. If I die, then I will do my best in my next life to make sure I never hurt Isis again, but I will **not** be the one who ends **this** life!

Isis's arms slip off my leg, and she screams.

I drop to the ground and kneel beside Isis. "What? What's wrong?"

"The baby!" Isis wails as she holds her stomach.

Oh, **crap**. "Right, okay, um, let's get you down from here and inside."

Isis screams again. "N-no, I can't move! The baby's coming!" The wind is picking up, and I can barely hear her.

"I'm going to get you a doctor or someone!" I shout. "Hold onto me!"

"Michael!" Isis shrieks. "The baby's coming **now**!"

...I can't leave Isis alone. Even for a minute. Gah! Why did I send the servants away! I could have sent one of them for help!

"Alright, um..." I move so I'm by Isis's feet. "Okay, can you lift up your dress?"

Isis's eyes are clenched shut, and her jaws are clamped together, but she's able to bunch her dress up. I spread her legs and take a look. Arg, I don't know what I'm doing! Isn't boiling water needed or something?

"**Augh!**" Isis screams.

"Deep breaths!" I shout "Take deep breaths!"

Isis tries to obey, but something makes her scream again. Blood comes out of her body, and the rain quickly washes it away.

I feel my heart racing. "Okay, uh... Can you push?"

Isis clamps her jaws shut again. I can see the tension in her body. Her hands clench into fists. She screams through her teeth, and I see something... I see feet.

Feet? Crap **crap CRAP!** "It's coming out backwards!" How do I solve this? **How do I solve this?!**

"Did you just call our baby '**it**'?!" Isis shrieks.

"Sorry!" I shout. "Push!"

Minutes pass. Isis struggles, and I offer encouragement. My nerves are fried. The rain just comes down harder, and the wind blows faster, and the sky is aglow with lightning. Isis screams and pushes, and I try to help as best I can. Raindrops hit my skin like bullets.

...And then it's over. The baby's head finally comes out. I'm holding her in my arms. The rain is washing the blood from the birth away. "A girl," I say. "We have a baby girl."

Isis gasps for breath. "Let me... see her..."

I move next to Isis and show her. It's dark, so we can't see clearly. Isis's face breaks out into a warm smile anyway. "...Hello there..." she breathes.

The baby opens her mouth, and she wails. It's such a soft sound.

Isis looks up at the sky. "...Take her..." she mutters. "Take her inside..."

I look up as well. "The rain..." I look at Isis. "Can you stand?"

Isis places her hands on the ground and tries to life herself up. She struggles for a moment, then collapses. "No," she gasps. "It hurts too much..."

A voice in the distance shouts, "I see them! Princess Isis! Prince Osiris! Can you hear me!"

"Yes!" I answer. "Hurry!"

-[]-[]-[]-

We're inside. It's warm. It's dry. The rain and wind continue to beat at the walls outside.

Our daughter is in Isis's arms, sucking at her breast. Isis looks exhausted. She looks at me. "You were really going to jump," she says in a low voice.

I don't say anything.

Isis continues to stare. "One day, you will tell me why. Not today, but someday." She looks down at the baby. "Right now, you need a name."

I leaned forward and take a look at our little girl. She has brilliant red scales, just like her mother, except they're brighter, a more pure red. "Rose?" I lamely suggest.

Isis gives me a look. "No daughter of mine will have a flower for a name, even one from Earth." She looks down again, then at the boarded up windows. "...Did the Egyptians have a thunder goddess?"

I shrug. "Maybe. I don't know, though. The stories I focused on were about the major deities."

"Any other mythologies?" Isis asks.

"Well," I slowly say, "The Greeks had a god of lighting and thunder, Zeus. A male god, of course."

"Did he have a wife?" Isis persists.

"Hera," I answer, "though according to Greek myth, he slept around a lot. Fathered a lot of half-gods."

Isis chews on her lower lip. "Hera. Hm..." She looks down at the baby girl. "The old Mipedian myth I mentioned earlier, it said that the desert's sky would only give the blessing of rain at the birth of a girl who would be his wife." She grins and laughs. "Of course, it's been a long time since anyone took that seriously. Still, Hera, bride of the thunderstorm..."

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"I do," Isis grins. "Hello, Hera."

The door opens, and King Theb-sarr hurries in. "Isis!" his voice strains.

"Father," Isis replies. "Meet Hera."

Theb-sarr's eyes drift to the tiny child. "Hera?"

Isis looks at me. "In an old story from Earth, Hera was the wife of the thunderstorm."

Theb-sarr looks at me. He looks lost for words.

I stand. "Your Majesty," I say with a bow. "Tomorrow, I would like to spend the day with Isis. I have a lot of catching up to do, many mistakes to make up for. One day won't be enough to do it all in, but it's a start, and I don't want to put it off any more than I already have."

Theb-sarr doesn't smile, doesn't frown. He just looks at me and says, "Osiris, that is your own decision to make."

My eyes meet Isis's. "Well, then I will not leave Isis's side tomorrow."

Theb-sarr fails to suppress a smile. "Very well."

I hear Hera burp. It's the most adorable thing **ever**.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Smell of Dust After Rain**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	49. The Smell of Dust After Rain

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Smell of Dust After Rain**

-[]-[]-[]-

The sun is rising over the soaking wet city of Al Mipedim. Within the hour, its light will touch the walls and streets of the city, all trace of water will evaporate from the buildings and the sands, and the only sign that it had ever rained will be the stockpiles of collected rainwater the Mipedians collected during the night. Well, that, as well as the sweet smell still hanging in the air.

I see a droplet of water collect on the upper edge of the window I'm looking out of, and I hold my left hand under it. The bead of water grows, trembling as it expands until it's large and fat, and finally falls from its perch into my hand. It forms quite a puddle, ice cold. A few more drops fall, and the puddle gets larger.

I hear someone stirring behind me. I turn, being careful not to disturb the puddle in my hand. Isis raises her upper body from her mattress, wipes the sleep from her eyes, and looks around. "Where's Hera?" she asks sleepily.

I put a finger from my right hand to my lips, then point to the foot of Isis's bed. There's a small bed, almost like a crib, and our tiny, red-scaled baby is curled up at its center. Isis leans forward to look, and she smiles. "Hello, Hera," she coos.

I slowly sit down next to Isis. "I have the one of the last pieces of last night's rain for you," I say softly.

Isis looks down at my hand, at the small puddle. She pokes the water with a finger. "It's cold," she says

"Not yet touched by the morning sun," I grin.

To people blessed with easy access to water every moment of their lives, presenting a drop of water to someone would be a silly gesture. To Mipedians, though...

Isis puts her finger to her mouth and gives it a lick. I present my hand to her. She takes my hand, holds it over her head, and pours the water on her face. Tiny streams of water run down her scales.

To Mipedians, who have to struggle to conserve and recover as much water as they can, even a tiny drop of water holds a powerful message.

Isis takes a deep breath and sighs, then turns to me and smiles. "Thank you." There is no hint of amusement in her face. Her words have nothing but gratitude.

It's funny. All I did was take a drop of water from the window to her. It didn't take that much time, it didn't take that much energy, and it really didn't cost me anything. There's no way Isis doesn't know how easy it was, and she's still thankful for the gesture. It's probably similar to how a girl treasures a flower that she watched a boy pick from the fields for her.

"You're welcome," I reply.

Isis searches my eyes. "What are you thinking about?" she asks.

I raise my eyebrows. "How could you tell I was thinking about something in particular?"

"You get this look in your eyes," Isis says, "like there's something very far away that only you can see. Even when you were avoiding me, I could sometimes see that expression on your face."

I smile. "I was just comparing the act of offering a drop of water to you to a similar act back on Earth."

"Another one of those things you need to tell me about sometime," Isis says. Then she presses her lips together with a thoughtful expression. "There's a lot of those stories, come to think of it."

I lean back until my elbows keep me seated in a reclining posture. "Well, we have all day. Which do you want to know first?"

Isis closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Then she smiles and says, "What I want to know what that **wonderful** smell is."

I grin. "You're not going to believe this. That smell actually has a name. It's petrichor."

Isis lays back on the bed and clutches her blanket to her chest. "Petrichor?"

I nod. "The smell of dust after rain."

-[]-[]-[]-

Noon. The sand is dry. The sky is cloudless. The sun is beating down.

Someday I'll find royal life normal. Someday I'll learn something that would normally make my eyes bug out, and instead I'll take it in stride. For example, if today was that day, then when I learned that a servant woman who had recently had a child of her own would be feeding and caring for Hera, I wouldn't have batted an eye. Instead, I'm feeling rather off-balance as Isis and I walk through the courtyard, away from the palace, leaving our child with someone I don't know at all.

"She'll be **fine**," Isis said for the tenth time since we left. "Joalle will take good care of Hera."

I look back towards the palace anyway. "If you had been a typical Human living on Earth, or even a Mipedian commoner, you wouldn't be okay with leaving your newborn daughter with another person, even a close friend."

Isis thinks about this for a while, then looks back to the palace herself. "I... think I see what you mean..."

"Maybe we should go back," I say.

I'm almost completely turned around when Isis grabs my shoulders. "Michael, I have absolute faith in Joalle. Hera is in good hands."

I take a couple deep breaths and close my eyes. "Right, calm down."

Isis turns my body away from the palace and asks, "Now, where was your favorite place to go before you became my husband? I'd like to see it."

The answer springs to my lips before I can process her question. "Shasta's bar."

And so we went.

It isn't a long walk to the bar, but it feels long. Isis and I draw a lot of stares. It's not every day these people see royalty simply walking down their road, after all. Even Mudeenu's usually on business and accompanied by a host of soldiers. Not that Isis and I actually alone, of course. I know exactly where two of our six invisible guards are, and I have a good idea where two more of them are as well.

We enter the bar, and we stand next to each other as we look around, Isis because this is all new to her, me because it's all familiar. Yes, the tables have been rearranged, and yes, the counter seems to have been renovated, but it still **feels** the same.

I see Shasta behind the counter, and he sees me. An excited expression appears on his face, and he opens his mouth to call out to me. Then he pauses, and his excitement becomes mixed with uncertainty.

I raise a hand in a partial wave and say, "Hello, Shasta. Don't worry, you don't have to bow, and you can call me Michael."

Shasta's confusion vanishes, and he grins. "It's so good to see you again, Michael!" Then he sees the person next to me, and his eyes widen. He quickly bows and says, "Princess Isis, a pleasure to meet you."

Isis blinks, her mouth hanging open. She looks at me, then at Shasta. "Um, you can stop bowing now." She sounds incredibly uncomfortable.

Shasta looks up. "Right, sorry." He looks incredibly flustered.

I sit down at the counter, and Isis sits next to me. "Two Coalitions, please?"

"Hard or fresh?" Shasta asks, still glancing at Isis.

Isis taps on the table. "Could you look over here?"

Shasta cringes a little as he turns his gaze towards Isis. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Isis leans forward and blows in Shasta's face. Shasta recoils. I hold back a snicker. That's how Mipedian children tell each other to stop talking before they're taught manners.

Shasta looks apprehensively at Isis. "What was **that** for?"

"That was for taking me too seriously," Isis said as she straightens up. "I'd like my Coalition hard, please. Whatever a Coalition is."

"Hard," I agree. A little something to take the edge off.

Shasta nods and starts mixing the drinks. Even with Isis watching, he's able to do his performance. Isis stares in fascination at the thermos as it flips and spirals through the air.

Shasta pours the drinks. Isis stares at it. "Shasta, that was a work of **art**!"

Shasta self-consciously scratches the back of his head. "Thank you, Your Highness."

-[]-[]-[]-

An hour has passed. There's a pleasant buzz in my fingers and toes. I should probably switch to fresh drinks now.

"Michael!" a familiar voice calls out.

I turn to the voice. "Sett!"

Sett takes a step forward, then his eyes drift towards the woman sitting next to me. He stands at attention and begins to bend at the waist-

"No," Isis says, a slightly goofy grin on her face. "I'm tired of all the bowing and the 'Your Highness'-ing and the this and the that..."

I gently remove Isis's glass from her hand. Let's not make things **too** crazy in here.

Sett pauses, then awkwardly makes his way to one of the tables and sits down, and **how** the **heck** did I not see Ashley standing right there?

"Anything I can get you, handsome?" Ashley asks with a curtsy.

Sett grins and leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Hey there beautiful. Could you get me a parfkew kainekot blend?"

"Right away," Ashley says, and- well, it looks like she's figured out to leave without being noticed as well.

I turn to Shasta and point a thumb back at Sett. "Okay, Shasta, what the heck have I missed?"

Isis bursts out laughing, making the whole bar stare at her for a while. After she stops, and the room returns to relative normalcy, Shasta leans forward and says, "Ashley started to flirt with Sett as a joke about a solan and a half ago. Sett eventually started returning with flirts of his own."

"So they're just messing around?" I clarify.

Shasta looks over my shoulder, then lowers his voice. "Not anymore, actually. I'm certain they're being sincere now. The past few months they've been spending time with each other, talking a lot." Shasta covers his mouth and holds back a snicker. "One night Sett stayed late, and he and Ashley fell asleep leaning on each other."

Huh. "It's a good thing he's found someone," I say as I look back at Sett. "He's been alone for too long." I blink. There's Ashley again. "She has **got** to teach me that trick."

Sett accepts the glass Ashley offers him, and she sits down next to him. Sett runs a hand through her hair, and Ashley plants a kiss on his mouth.

I raise my eyebrows. "Those two are a priest and two witnesses away from being married," I joke.

Sett and Ashley looks at me, then at each other. They grin in unison. Sett turns back to me and says, "Prince Osiris, will you do us the honor of presiding over our marriage?"

I'm caught completely off guard. "...What?"

Sett continues, "Sobtjek will probably have to witness too, to make sure you do it right. Shasta, will you be our third witness?"

I twist my head around to see Shasta nodding. "I will," he says, as if it was perfectly normal to be asked to basically watch Sett and Ashley have sex for the first time.

I stammer,"A-aren't you going to propose to her first?"

"We just did," Ashley and Sett say together.

...I **really** missed a lot in those ten months, didn't I?

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Things We Can Do While Alone**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	50. The Things We Can Do While Alone

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Things We Can Do While Alone**

-[]-[]-[]-

Five days ago. Sett and Ashley's decision to get married happened five days ago. They haven't actually gotten married yet, **that** will have to wait until Theb-sarr receives the marriage permit request.

I'm limping up the stairs to my bedroom from training at the barracks. I'm **still** hurting from the beating Mudeenu gave me the day after I skipped out on training, but honestly, it was worth it.

I make it to my door... **our** bedroom door, and I push it open. There's Isis, sitting on the bed and holding Hera in her arms, and sitting next to them is Joalle, Hera's orange-scaled wet nurse.

Isis looks up as I walk in and smiles. "Hello, Michael."

Joalle looks at me and suddenly vanishes from sight. I'm kind of used to her disappearing acts now. She's still here, of course, but apparently the best servant is an unseen one. Only servants with jobs **requiring** being visible are allowed to walk around without disappearing.

"Hello, Isis," I reply. I nod to the empty air next to her. "Joalle." I sit down next to Isis and look in her arms. "Hey there, Hera."

Hera is staring at the place Joalle used to be with wide eyes. Eventually she'll be able to vanish at will as well, but for now it's as mysterious to her as it is to the Humans.

Isis tilts her head towards my desk. "It's here," she says.

"It is?" I stand up, careful not to startle Hera, and head over to look at my list. The only paper there is titled "Marriage Permit" and has Sett and Ashley's names on it. There are some other words, but they're not important right now.

I turn to Isis and hold the paper up. "Sorry to leave as soon as I came, but I'm needed in the ritual room in ten minutes."

Isis nods. "It's better that Sobtjek isn't kept waiting."

-[]-[]-[]-

Third review of the words to say. Fussing over the robes I'm wearing. Shears brought in to trim some stray hairs. Ritual meditation.

An hour has passed, and finally I'm standing in front of Sett and Ashley, both wearing plain white tunics. Sobtjek and Shasta sit on the witness bench, Sobtjek in his muge's robes, and Shasta in a black shendyt. I'm wearing a gaudy, gold-colored robe that flows down to the floor. I'm trying to imagine Theb-sarr ever wearing something like this, and I'm failing, it's just too ridiculous.

The floor is mine. "Please kneel."

Sett and Ashley kneel. I hold a hand over both their heads. Since neither is of royal status, I start with Sett. "Sett, son of..."

"Alashaharak."

Oh boy. "Sett, son of..." I sound it out, "A-la-sha-ha-rak..." I glance up at Sobtjek, who motions for me to continue. "And Ashley, daughter of..."

"Emily."

I whisper, "Your father."

Ashley flushes red and quickly mutters, "Oh. Kevin."

"And Ashley, daughter of Kevin," I continue. "Tonight you will be joined together." I place a hand on Sett's head. "Sett, do you accept Ashley as your wife?"

"Yes."

I place a hand on Ashley's head. "Ashley, do you accept Sett as your husband?"

"Yes."

"Good. Please turn to face each other and take-"

Sobtjek motions for me to stop. I wait for Sett and Ashley to face each other, **then** say, "Take each other by the hands."

They do so.

I say my next to last words for this part. "By the strength of the Ancient Powers, I join you together. By the consent of you both, I join you together." It's not a royal marriage, so "the will of the king" is left out.

Then I stand beside Sobtjek. I take a breath to calm my nerves, then say, "You will now seal your marriage." I then sit down and prepare for the view to become incredibly awkward.

-[]-[]-[]-

The ceremony is over. Sobtjek, Shasta and I leave Sett and Ashley lying together in the room. The servants will take over from here.

I was right. It **was** incredibly awkward to watch. Not that Sett and Ashley were awkward. They were actually incredibly-

Stop. Bad Michael. No thinking about your friends like that.

I need to go to the bathhouse for a cleaning, now. It doesn't matter how it happens, it just needs to happen. I'm probably going to get scrubbed by invisible servants again. I'll never get used to the floating brushes and oil and everything...

Sobtjek and Shasta continue on while I'm herded into the bathhouse. I'm caught by surprise as I see someone already waiting for me in the dressing room.

"You can leave," Isis says as she grins at me. It's obvious that the words were meant for the servants. "I'll take care of things from here."

I vaguely notice the sound of footsteps leaving the bathhouse and slowly fading away, but right now my attention is on Isis. She's wearing a deep blue dress with no sleeves and a low-cut top, and the fabric is so thin that I can almost see right through it. She isn't wearing anything else underneath.

"Hi... Isis..." I say slowly, my eyes not quite making it up to her face.

Isis takes slow, delicate steps as she walks around me, and my head turns almost of its own accord, not letting her out of my sight. Isis drags the curtain above the entrance to the bathhouse closed, then takes one step towards me. She takes a hold of my shoulders and turns my body to face her.

"Do you like what you see?" Isis breathes, the air from her lips wafting around my face.

There's no apprehension for me now. We might not yet know each other as well as I'd like, but Isis is no stranger to me anymore. "I do," I say, a grin spreading on my face. "You're quite stunning this afternoon."

"Evening," Isis corrects before leaning forward and lightly brushing her lips against mine. "You, on the other hand, could use some work. That robe looks absolutely horrid."

I feel Isis's arms wrap around my chest, and her fingers begin to undo the knots holding my robes together. "I look like a bowl of mashed potatoes in this," I agree. "Feel like one, too."

One knot comes undone. Isis chuckles. "One day you're going to run out of words to say that I don't know the meaning of." There goes another knot. "Then you'll have to speak the same way everyone **else** in Perim speaks."

Another knot undone. My back is exposed to the cool air of the dressing room. A shiver crawls across my skin. "But the day I run out of new words is the day I'll run out of stories to tell," I tease.

"I'll have to deal with it when it happens," Isis counters with a smirk, and she silences me with a kiss. I feel cloth being pulled across my skin, and soon the ridiculous-looking robe flows off my body and falls to the floor in a pile around my feet.

Isis presses her weight against me as we kiss, and I step backwards, towards the curtain leading to the heated room. I fumble for the curtain's edge with my hands, find it, and push it aside. The hot air rushes out, enveloping us.

Isis pushes me inside and forces me down on the bench at the far wall, and our lips part from each other. "Keep your eyes closed," Isis whispers in my ear. I comply.

Moments later, Isis's hands touch my chest. Both hands are coated with cool cleansing oil. I inhale sharply at the temperature, then sigh as Isis spreads the oil around. She coats my shoulders, my arms, my sides, my stomach, my **oh!** My body shudders as Isis makes extra sure my nether-regions are well covered with oil. I grab the edge of the bench to keep from throwing myself on her, and my arms shake with the effort.

When I am completely covered there are several long, aggravating moments where I don't feel anything but the heat of the room, where I don't hear anything but the sound of my own breathing. Then I hear Isis's voice. "Open your eyes."

I open my eyes. Isis has removed her dress, and she's also covered in the cleaning oil.

Nope, I can't wait any longer. I reach forward a take a hold of Isis's waist. She lets out a laugh as I pull her forward, and soon she's sitting on my lap, facing me.

"It about time you showed some interest in me," Isis giggles. Then she gasps as I brush my lips across her breasts.

I lift Isis slightly, and she holds herself up while I move myself into position. When she and I are ready, I hold her hips steady and thrust my body up...

-[]-[]-[]-

How long were we there? I don't know. Isis doesn't know. Frankly, we don't care.

Isis and I lay on the stone floor of the heated bathhouse, her back against my chest, my hips against her rear... My arms are wrapped around her, meeting on the other side under her breasts.

Isis is the first to speak. "Promise never to be too nervous to talk to me again."

I reply, "I promise."

Isis speaks again. "Promise that when there **can** be time for me, there **will** be time for me."

"I promise."

Isis folds her arms and presses them against my arms. "Good."

"My turn," I say. "Promise to tell me when I start to become distant."

"I promise," Isis nods.

"Good," I smile.

Isis turns her head. "Only one?"

"I only needed the one," I say, kissing her cheek.

Isis giggles. "It feels like a dream, doesn't it? Like all of this is too good to be real."

Those words feel... dark... "But it's not, Isis... and don't you forget it..."

-[]-[]-[]-

**_Act II: Ascension _is complete!**

**_Act III: Invader _is coming!**

**Up next: ****The Fledgling Talent**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	51. The Fledgling Talent

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act III: Invader**_

**The Fledgling Talent**

-[]-[]-[]-

My name is Michael. I am fifty-nine solans old, almost thirty years. I'm a prince of the royal house of King Theb-sarr, and in my official capacity I am called Prince Osiris. I am of the Human-Mipedian tribe, one of four tribes of Humans dwelling in Perim.

Around twelve solans ago I married Isis, daughter of Theb-sarr. Our daughter, Hera was born two solans after that. I know that Hera is not my daughter by blood, and I don't care, she's still my daughter.

I have a wonderful circle of family and friends. Sett, my former employer, and his wife of ten solans, Ashley. Shasta, brother-in-law to Sett from a previous marriage. Theb-sarr, my king and father-in-law, and my brother-in-law Iflar, the Crown Prince. Maliph and Malvadine, my first friends in Perim and the newest members of my personal guard, and Joalle, my daughter's nursemaid, who has had as much a hand in Hera's rearing as Isis and I have.

Life is good.

-[]-[]-[]-

"I suspect that the primary reason most folk purchase one of these Coalition beverages is the show the barkeeper puts on while mixing it," the Mipedian I'm sitting with muses as he sets his glass down. "A joy to watch being made, but not particularly satisfying to the taste."

I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. "Actually, most people quite enjoy the taste."

"Most likely an acquired taste, then," the Mipedian says as he adjusts his violet muge's cloak.

The Mipedian sitting across from me has dark orange scales, almost brown. He has a pair of forward sweeping horns that pierce through the hood of his cloak. His flattened face, unusual for a Mipedian, holds a wide mouth and small eyes like dagger-points. His body is muscular, unusually so for a muge, and a round silvery-gray stone is embedded in his chest, at the bottom of his sternum. The cloak he wears is ragged, torn from exposure to sandstorms and almost threadbare, and his loincloth isn't faring much better.

If I had met this creature thirteen solans ago, I likely would have fainted. He is Tiaane, my first favorite character from Chaotic, the show and game this world is like in almost every way.

Tiaane glances out a window and studies the sun. "Will we be waiting much longer?"

"Not much," I say.

The muge turns back to face me. "I admit that the reason your request for an audience with me still eludes me. Will you not inform me?"

I shake my head. "I gave my word that I would wait for everyone to arrive."

"I see." Tiaane folds his arms and looks out the window again.

A few minutes pass, and a red-scaled beauty graces the bar with her presence. I spot her crossing the threshold, and I call out, "Isis! Over here!"

Isis's eyes meet mine, and she smiles. She looks down and speaks to someone, too low for me to hear over this distance. Moments later I hear the patter of tiny running feet, and another red-scale beauty runs up to me.

"Daddy!" Hera cries out with glee in her voice as she reaches me and climbs up on my lap.

"Hey there, munchkin," I say, poking the tip of Hera's nose. She squeals and laughs, and she pokes my nose back.

Tiaane blinks. "I... take it you wished for me to meet your daughter." He looks confused. "Your reason for this is?"

Hera turns to look at Tiaane, and she squeaks and buries her face in my tunic. The air around her shimmers, though she doesn't vanish from sight. She hasn't quite mastered invisibility yet.

I pat her on the back. "It's all right, Hera. This is Tiaane. He's a muge."

Hera peeks at Tiaane, then hides her face again.

Isis sits down next to me, and plants a light kiss on my cheek. "Sorry we're late. You know how she is, hiding behind everything when something surprises her."

Tiaane clears his throat. "So, will I be informed now?"

I nod. "Hera has been showing talent with the basics of mugic."

Tiaane's facial expression doesn't change. "Can she identify the various notes?"

"Yes," Isis says, "both written and played."

Tiaane's eye ridges press together slightly. "Is she capable of duplicating them?"

"Both in writing and by voice," I reply.

Tiaane leans forward. "Hera?"

Hera peeks again.

Tiaane lifts a hand into the air, and with his finger he writes a string of three glowing symbols in the air. "What does this say?"

Hera looks at the symbols, then takes her face away from my chest. She opens her mouth and sings the short melody, middle low high. The symbols sway along with her voice.

Tiaane's eyes widen. He writes a string of seven notes in the air. "What about this?"

Hera grins and bounces slightly in my lap as she sings. The glowing symbols flare brightly and dance.

Tiaane wipes the symbols out of the air, then reaches into a pouch at his waist and pulls out a gray ring. A mugic. "And what does **this** say?" Tiaane asks as he holds it out.

Hera clumsily takes a hold of the mugic, the container holding a fragment of mugical power. She holds it in both hands and stares at it.

She doesn't sing. Instead, I hear something quiet in the back of my mind. It sounds like an ascending scale of notes being played on a piano.

Tiaane also seems to hear it. He looks at me, then at Isis. "Born during a thunderstorm?" he asks.

Isis nods.

"That explains it," Tiaane says as he leans back in his seat. "Your daughter does indeed hold a talent for mugic."

"Would you be her tutor?" Isis asks.

Tiaane stares at Isis. "Me?"

Isis looks at me. "Michael said you would be a good teacher."

I elaborate, "You were taught by several great muges, even including Najarin, an Overworlder. Your unique knowledge should benefit our daughter best."

Tiaane closes his eyes and sighs. "Again and again I'm reminded that Humans tend to know far more than they should be able to." Then he looks at Hera, who is still playing with the mugic. "I suppose I could settle down for a while. I've never taught anyone quite so young before, but the young do learn the fastest." He nods. "Very well, I will be her tutor."

I grin, and I'm about to speak before Isis nudges me. "Yes, Isis?"

"Has your training started yet?" she mutters.

"Not for another six minutes."

Isis hisses, "Don't be late. I'll take care of everything here."

Tiaane looks between the two of us. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Isis groans, "Michael just needs to-"

"Ah," Tiaane interrupts, "you did mention your combat training earlier. Do not let me take up any more of your time, then."

I carefully move Hera over to Isis's lap, then stand. "Wish me luck," I say.

"Gud luck Daddy," Hera says, not looking up from the mugic.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Letter**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	52. The Letter

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Letter**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Quit... **squirming**, Michael!" Isis mutters in exasperation as she holds my head still for the doctor. "Do you want your nose to be crooked when he's done with it?"

I'm **trying** to sit still, but- **yeow**! I reflexively pull my head back a little when the doctor tries to push the cartilage of my nose back into place. At least the doctor is human and therefore know where my nose **should** be.

The weapons used in training are either blunted or undercharged, specifically to prevent fatal injury. Still, a sword to the face is going to do some damage, sharpened or not.

Isis firms up her grip. "Seriously, Michael, everything that's happened during training, and **this** is the thing you can't sit still for the doctor to treat?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, and I feel tears slip out of the corners of my eyes. "Manuel, I can't stand it, I need to bite on something."

"You keep moving your head when you bite, Your Highness" Manuel grimaces as he repositions his hands on my nose. "I can't believe the Mipedians have guns that spit lightning and fire and ice, and yet they haven't made laughing gas."

"How would making him laugh help?" Isis asks.

"No, it's- never mind," Manuel sighs. He gives my nose another push-

"**Ow!**"

Manuel grits his teeth. I feel so sorry for him, I'm being such a bad patient right now.

There's a pause while Manuel collects his nerves, as do I. Isis sighs, then says, "Michael, can we talk about something?"

"I guess?" I mutter, still antsy about the pain I'm expecting to feel any moment from another positioning attempt on my nose.

"Hera's ten now," Isis begins, and I quickly remind myself that she means solans instead of years, "so I think we can start taking care of another child."

I raise my eyebrows. "Only if I get to participate during conception."

"Of course," Isis grins.

Manuel blinks. "Did... Did you two just agree to having a threesome? Were you **seriously** discussing that right in front of me?"

The best way to deal with that question is to ignore it. "So, do you have a name in mind?" I ask Isis.

"I was thinking Juel for a girl," Isis muses, "and the only name I can think of for a boy is Zeus, but I don't really really like the way it sounds."

"Jupiter?" I suggest jokingly.

"Who's Jupiter?" Isis asks.

"The Roman god of lightning and thunder," I say. "He's basically the Roman version of Zeus."

Isis tilts her head. "I like the sound of Jupiter. It's a nice, strong name."

I blink. "I... was joking."

"I could tell," Isis admits, "but I like it."

...Well, that was- **YEOW!**

During my moment of distraction, Manuel had pulled the cartilage of my nose back to where it belongs. I reel backwards and barely stop myself from clutching my nose.

"I still need to wrap that," Manuel says as Isis pushes forwards.

There's a knock on the door. Manuel looks up from his work and shouts, "In a minute!"

A Mipedian voice shouts, "There's a letter for Prince Osiris! It's from Lilth of the Human-Underworlders!"

Manuel raises his eyebrows and glances at me. "Let him in," I say.

-[]-[]-[]-

Manuel puts what is effectively a nose-splint on my face while Isis holds the letter to the side for me to read. It's... well, it's an odd letter.

"'Prince Osiris,'" I read, "'I'm writing to congratulate you turning sixty this solan-' Seriously, Lilth?" I sigh, then continue. "'Here's hoping you continue to look as stunning as when we first met. It's not difficult to see how the princess fell for you.'"

Isis looks ready to tear the letter into pieces. "Can you read the rest of it silently?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"Sure," I mutter before continuing.

_I also wish to inform you that a mutual acquaintance of ours is expected to be arriving soon. It's doesn't seem like it will take long before he breaks the ice, and I'm sure he has a flood of emotions to show all of us._

_Regards, Queen Lilth_

_P.S. Chaor tripped the other day. He fell for a while. I wish he fell for me the same way a million times. Then he'd be my million._

...What? What is this? I don't even- "Manuel, how close to done are you?"

"Just about," he says. "Just let me... done." He steps aside.

I take the letter from Isis's hands and study it. "This doesn't make any sense," I mutter. "What mutual acquaintance? And what's with this postscript?"

Isis looks over my shoulder, and her angry expression turns into one of confusion. "...What the hell is this?"

I turn the letter to face Manuel. "You have my permission to read this. Can you make anything of it?"

Manuel blinks, then looks at the page. I see his eyes go back and forth, then hover around some particular parts of the page. "Huh. She says 'fell for' twice, one at the beginning and one at the end."

"So?" I ask.

Manuel turns the letter back to me and points at both places the words appear. "She extended the cross of the first letter of the first word to the first letter of the second word in both places."

I hadn't noticed that. I check elsewhere on the page. "And she **didn't** connect the F's in 'difficult' up there."

I read the letter again, this time out loud.

...Wait...

Fell for... Fell for...

And at the end there. My million.

Fell for. My million. Gah! It's **right there**! I **know** what it means! Something to do with the game or show?

Oh crap. "Phelphor!" I shout.

"Yes, those words are connected," Manuel repeats. "I already told you that."

"No!" I grit my teeth together. "It's a name!"

Fell for, my million! Phelphor, M'arrillian!

"I need to go to Underworld City," I say as I stand up. "As soon as possible."

"Why?" Isis asks, a bewildered expression on her face. "What's going on?"

I feel shivers crawl across my body. "The Underworlders found someone who **really** shouldn't have been found."

Manuel and Isis stare at me like I've gone nuts. I wish that was really the problem, I really do.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Then why not simply say the Underworlders found this Phelphor creature?" Iflar asks. I'm speaking with him in the throne room. He's in charge while his father is away on business. "Why go through the trouble of layering the message inside another one?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe her mail's being checked. Maybe Phelphor's already out of the ice and is peeking inside everyone's heads."

Iflar clenches his teeth and pinches his eye ridges together. "I still can't decide whether to believe you, that these 'M'arrillians' are as dangerous as you claim."

Oh, come on!

Iflar presses his lips together. "Then again, this game some of you Humans spoke about in the past seems to have been right about everything else so far, so it's better that I take this seriously." He closes his eyes and sighs. "Stay safe. You know how Underworlders can be."

"I'm coming too," a voice behind me says.

I turn around in time to see the air behind me flicker, and Isis appears from nowhere as she drops out of invisibility.

Isis glares at me. "You weren't seriously thinking of going alone, were you?"

"No," I say. "I was going to bring Maliph and Malvadine, along with whoever else they suggested." I scratch the side of my head. "I'll need to send a herald ahead of me-"

Isis waves her hand a little. "And you need a few servants along, and a gift for Chaor." Through clenched teeth she adds, "Like he really **needs** anything else..."

"And why are **you** coming?" I ask.

Isis gives me an irritated glare. "Because if **you** go to Underworld City without another member of the royal family, you're going to start talk that Al Mipedim can't afford to have started."

...Right, that little thing. Can't forget about that. "You're right," I relent. "You need to come along as well."

I glance at Iflar. He looks like he wants to object, but he's holding himself back. Instead, he says, "I'll arrange for a team of kozorr for your group to ride."

I bow slightly. "Thank you for all your help, Iflar."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Long Ride**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	53. The Long Ride

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Long Ride**

-[]-[]-[]-

The packs are all full and the wagons are loaded. There are tents for everyone, clothing, and food enough for the journey there, the journey back, and then a bit more than that. The company includes myself, Isis, ten personal guards including Maliph and Malvadine, and three servants who I have **still** never seen before... because they're always invisible. Yeah, I'm glad I decided not to say that lame joke out loud.

In short, we are physically ready to leave at any time. Emotionally, however...

"It's okay, Hera," I say as I soothe my daughter. "Mommy and daddy will be back in a month, hopefully less."

Hera grabs the front of my coat and buries her face in it. I pat her on the back. I don't want to leave her, I really don't, but if there's a chance to prevent the M'arrillians from escaping the Deepmines, then I have to take it.

I look up at Joalle. At least, I look in Joalle's general direction. "Hera, Joalle will still be here for you, and Tiaane will be teaching you about mugic, right?"

"Ah don't want you and Mommy to go, Daddy," Hera sobs into my chest.

I look pleadingly at the air where I think Joalle is. Moments later, Hera looks over her shoulder, then hugs her nursemaid's invisible leg.

I poke Hera's nose. "I'll see you soon, my little girl."

Hera reaches out towards my face, then pauses, her hand hovering close to the bandage on my nose. Then she taps my chin instead. "Bye bye Daddy. Ah luv you."

I smile. "I love you too, Hera."

I stand and return to the group, then hoist myself onto one of the kozorr. I see Isis approach Hera to comfort her.

"We're coming too," I hear a voice say.

I turn to see Sett and Ashley approaching on the back of a kozorr. "Um, why?" I ask, a little bewildered.

"Because you're up against the M'arrillians," Ashley says, "so you could really use all the help you can get."

"And I'm not going to let her run off without me," Sett adds.

Before I can protest any, Maliph flickers into view nearby. "I can see good reasons for them to come along. Sett has fought in the Underworld before, so he knows the area, and Ashley is not as recognizable as you, so she can go places a common Human can get to that you wouldn't be able too."

I throw my hands up in defeat. "Fine," I grumble.

"You seems a little tense," Maliph notes.

I shrug. "Trying to prevent what might as well be the destruction of Perim would do that, yes."

Maliph's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything else.

Isis hops onto my kozorr and wraps her arms around my chest. "We need to go," she whispers. "Fast, while I still have the strength to leave."

I nod, then raise a fist in the air. "Is everything assembled?" I call out. There are shouts to the affirmative.

I pull on my kozorr's reins and make the beast face the gate. "Everyone mount!"

There's a shuffling behind me while everyone gets on their mounts.

"Ready?" I say, then point forward, out into the desert. Nobody objects, so I shout, "Yah!"

-[]-[]-[]-

Kozorr are very useful animals. They're pretty much reptilian horses. I don't mean a horse with scales, they're just used the same way horses are used on Earth.

Kozorr are blue scaled, somewhat squat, and the males have a frill on their heads. When they migrate, the alpha male leads, while the females and lesser males follow. This makes them excellent for moving large groups over great distances. All you have to do is control the lead kozorr, and the rest will simply follow.

"Yah!" I shout, urging my kozorr to speed up.

Mipedians train their lead kozorr to understand spoken commands, "Yah" to speed up, "Ro" to slow down, "Hee" to stop. The reins let them steer, but that's all the tactile commands they use.

We're moving at what I'd call a gallop. Isis and I are at the head of the group, and bringing up the rear are the wagons and the soldiers who are keeping an eye on them.

Minutes later, I hear, "Wagon!"

"Ro!" I shout, and the kozorr slows.

"Wagon!" comes the shout again.

"Hee!" I reply, and the kozorr comes to a halt. I turn around to see the other kozorr slowing, then look at the wagons. One is missing its tarp.

Seconds later a soldier catches up with us with the missing tarp. "Who tied this line?" he shouts.

There's a squabble while the tarp is replaced, and then we're off.

-[]-[]-[]-

Night has fallen. Eventually it will be too cold to continue riding. Even with the M'arrillian threat looming, I can't push our animals too hard.

Time passes, and the kozorr have huddled together for the night. The tents are pitched, the beddings laid out, and a guard has been set.

Isis and I are in our tent. Good grief, I'm exhausted.

"Michael?" Isis says.

"Yes, Isis?" I respond.

"Who do you want as our child's father?"

There was a time in the past where a question like that would make my brain short-circuit. Now, it's merely a little odd. "I hadn't thought about it, really. Aren't **you** supposed to choose?"

"Yes," Isis says from beside me, "but if you're going to be there too, you should have a say."

A voice outside shouts, "With all due respect, Your Highnesses, could you two keep it down?"

I lower my voice. "Thank you for thinking of me, but the idea of choosing who'll be having sex with my wife is a little awkward."

"I understand," Isis sighs.

"...You're having trouble choosing," I realize.

Isis cringes. "Father chose for me when I had Hera."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "I have bad memories about my behavior from back then."

Isis places a hand on my shoulder. "Don't think about it," she whispers before pressing her lips against mine. She pushes me onto my back and climbs on top of me. We kiss passionately while Isis reaches down and prepares my body for the act.

"You do know... that they'll be... able to hear us," I say between kisses.

Isis grins. "Let's see if you can be quiet this time then," she teases before descending on me.

-[]-[]-[]-

Two days and nights pass, and we reach one of the tunnels that lead into the Underworld. It won't be many more days before we arrive at Underworld City. Sett takes the lead as we begin the trek below.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The City Like Hell**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	54. The City Like Hell

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The City Like Hell**

-[]-[]-[]-

I'd forgotten how hard it is to keep track of time in the Underworld from my last life there. There's no sun, no stars, no difference between day and night. Now our company simply travels until the kozorr need a break.

There's also a mild problem. Turns out Mipedians have some degree of claustrophobia. The soldiers keep glancing at the ceiling of the Underworld, hands hovering near their weapons. The servants are constantly invisible now, even with their permission to relax. Most worryingly, the stress has caused Sett's old condition to flared up again.

"Just take a deep breath and hold it," Ashley suggests, her hands clasped around Sett's.

Sett clenched his jaws together and tries to breathe in deep, but another fit of coughs stops him.

Malvadine lets out his anxiety by constantly checking the contents of the wagons. Maliph is repeatedly checking the condition of everyone's weapons. Isis, well...

"Ow," I mutter, shaking my hand from Isis's grip.

"Sorry!" Isis puts her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how hard I was holding your hand."

I massage my knuckles. "It's all right, I know how much this place puts you on edge."

"I can't believe people actually **live** down here," Isis exclaims as she looks around for the fiftieth time this break. "No sky, walls everywhere, all these caverns..."

I turn around to see the progress that's been made with readying the kozorr. "Don't worry, we'll get moving again soon."

Isis glances at where the sky should be. "The sooner the better."

-[]-[]-[]-

I never saw the outside of Underworld City before, and the cartoon doesn't count. The real thing is actually quite breathtaking. Giant walls made of tan stone surround the city, and the gates appear to be made out of red metal. There are spikes everywhere, on the walls and doors, around windows, and along the road leading up to the entrance.

My company is waiting outside the gate. Nobody has come out to greet us. On the plus side, nobody's attacking us either.

My heart is racing. My palms are sweaty. My teeth are clenched tightly together, and my jaw is starting to hurt. I burned to death here once. I got blasted by mugic, too. I even spent a week as Chaor's pet. There are some unpleasant memories here, and they keep cycling through my head.

There's the sound of a gong being struck, and the large red doors begin to creak open. A gap appears between them, and a large creature walks out. Oh, **joy**. We just got here, and who greets us but Chaor himself.

Chaor's eyes are narrow slits as he approaches. His hands are clenched into fists, and his footfalls are heavy. He stops a distance away, opens his mouth, and bellows, "What the **hell** are you doing here, Mipedians?"

Okay, Michael. You're the prince, it's your job to answer. Just stay calm.

I raise my right hand and firmly say, "Greetings, Chaor, King and Conqueror of the World Below."

Chaor looks a bit taken by surprise. His eyes flick towards me, and he's quiet for a while. Then he raises his own right arm, hand still clenched into a fist, and replies, "Greetings, Osiris, Human Prince of the Desert Oasis."

"I received word from Queen Lilth that a creature has been found," I say in answer to Chaor's previous question. "I assume the creature was frozen when he was found?"

Chaor looks torn between answering my and ordering my company to leave. Finally what manners he has seem to win. "A creature was indeed found inside Ice Pillar some days ago. At Lilth's insistence, as well as many other Humans, I have kept him frozen."

"That's **excellent** news," I say, my pulse slowing a little. "Where is he being kept?"

"You want to have a crack at killing him?" Chaor asks with a raised eye ridge.

I blink. "I take it there have been some problems with your attempts?"

Chaor chews on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds. "I would prefer showing you what I mean to telling you."

...Chaor's spooked. I can tell. Something about Phelphor has seriously scared him. If Lilth and other Humans have been explaining the capabilities of the M'arrillians to him, then I don't blame him.

"Is this an invitation to enter the city?" I ask. Best to make sure we're actually allowed in.

Chaor bares his teeth, but says, "Yes. A place for you and your company to stay will be prepared."

I gusture for the wagon containing Chaor's gift to be brought forward. "As thanks for your hospitality-"

"Never mind that," Chaor snaps, "just come in."

I feel Isis's hands tighten on my shoulder. "...Did he just ignore a gift? Michael, just how dangerous are the M'arrillians?"

"Yah," I say aloud to start my kozorr moving. Then I whisper, "When we're safely inside and everyone's settled in, I can explain everything."

"Maliph says they're capable of destroying the world," Isis mutters.

Maliph said that? Oh right, I did mention something to that effect before we left Al Mipedim. "He isn't terribly far off the mark."

I feel Isis shudder, but she doesn't say anything. I turn my attention back to the road in front of me.

We travel down the roads. Large stone buildings, narrow crowded streets, dry hot air.

Welcome back to Hell, Michael. Hopefully it's still Hell by the time you leave.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Creature in Ice**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	55. The Creature in Ice

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Creature in Ice**

-[]-[]-[]-

This dungeon is so... incredibly... **cold**...

If the walls have their own color, I can't see what it is. Everything is covered in a layer of white ice. It's not even smooth ice, it looks more like someone threw water at the walls and it froze mid-splash.

I really should be wearing something warmer, I really should, but I **have** to see that Phelphor is indeed contained. So instead of wearing a nice warm coat, pants, and a sturdy pair of boots, I have my shendyt, a pair of flimsy sandals, and absolutely nothing on my chest. I'm folding my arms and hugging them close to my body, my teeth are chattering, and a cloud billows around my face each time I exhale.

Chaor, the only other person with me at the moment, is as poorly dressed for the cold as I am, but he seems unaffected. His breath also freezes in the air, but that's all the sign of cold there is around him.

"Here we are," Chaor says, and he steps aside. I look into the room ahead of him, at the only occupied prison cell in this whole frozen pit. Inside is a jagged pillar of ice. It's completely transparent, unlike the surrounding ice, and I can see the creature inside it very clearly.

The creature has slick red skin, with paler areas on running from his lower jaw, down his chest and stomach, and also on his biceps. A set of violet blades start on the top of his head and trail down his back. He almost appears to have no neck, and his muscles are large and sharply defined.

He wears gold-colored arm guards, shin guards, and armor over his left shoulder, the shoulder armor held in place by a leather strap that loops under his right pectoral muscle. A belt hold up his leather kilt, and his clothing and armor are studded with emeralds, or at least green gems.

"Th-th-that's definitely Ph-Ph-Phelphor..." I say as I walk around the frozen creature.

Chaor folds his arms. Is that **worry** on his face? "That's what Lilth and several other humans have called him. Everyone who knows his name seems terrified when they see him."

"For g-g-good reason," I shudder. I place a hand on the ice. It doesn't feel wet. Good, that means it isn't melting.

"What **are** the M'arrillians, Osiris?" Chaor's eyes are wide, with none of the arrogance he is typically portrayed with. "Why you Humans so scared of them?"

"I'd f-f-freeze to death in here before finishing if I t-t-tried to tell you here," I stammer.

Chaor nods. "Come with me. Let's get you somewhere warmer."

-[]-[]-[]-

"You were acting like an idiot, Michael," Isis scolds. "You couldn't spend two minutes putting on something warmer before going in there?"

I shiver under my coat as my company and I follow Chaor up the stairs to a higher floor. "It **was** stupid," I admit. "I just needed to see that everything was secure."

Isis looks like she wants to say more, but apparently our destination is close. Chaor turns to a small door, at least compared to him, it's quite large compared to the rest of us, and enters the room beyond it. We follow.

"Hello again, Prince Osiris," says a female voice.

I blink. The speaker was of course Queen Lilth, but there's another Human woman here as well. Sitting across from the dark-haired Queen of the Underworld is a statuesque blonde woman wearing what appears to be a black silk gown. It's as provocative as the outfit Lilth is wearing, with a low cut front leaving little to the imagination.

The blonde woman studies me for a moment. "Osiris?" she says more to herself than anyone. She leans a bit on the armrest of her chair and runs her hand through her hair. "Prince of the Mipedians? You're a lot... **more** than I was expecting." She winks and smiles.

Oh come **on**! Is she seriously coming on to me? "Hello. Let me introduce Princess Isis," I gesture to her, "my **wife**."

The blonde woman's flirtatious posture immediately vanishes, and she sits up straight. Lilth smirks. Isis gives me an approving glance. Chaor merely looks irritated. "Your soldiers will have to wait by the door, Osiris," he says.

"Three guards," I counter.

"One guard," Chaor growls.

"Two," I snap. "Don't try to tell me your don't have guards in this room yourself."

Chaor throws his hands up. "Fine, two guards," he snarls.

"**Thank** you," I say. "Maliph, Malvadine, you two stay."

-[]-[]-[]-

After a lot of fussing about who sits where, we're finally ready to talk.

The blonde woman speaks first. "Seeing as nobody bothered to introduce me..." she turns to me. "I am Sarah, Head of the Human-Danian tribe."

My eyes bug out, and look at her again. "Are you-?"

Sarah narrows her eyes. "I swear, if you're about to ask if I'm the same Sarah from the show..."

Uh... "A-are you the one making sure inter-tribal relations between the Humans and the Danians go well?"

"Nice save," Sarah says. "Obvious, but well thought out." She turns to Chaor. "Now, before Osiris joined us, we were discussing your frozen guest downstairs."

Chaor raises his hand to cut her off. "I want to hear Osiris's explanation of the capabilities of the M'arrillians and this Phelphor first."

I knew this was coming. I take a breath and begin to speak. "The M'arrillians are capable of controlling the minds of other creatures, called brainwashing in the show and the game, although it's overtly a supernatural ability as opposed to normal brainwashing. They are masters of the element water. There are three kinds of M'arrillians. Chieftains, the ones capable of said brainwashing. Kha'rall, the M'arrillian's coral soldiers. Fluidmorphers, mugic wielders also capable of some degree of brainwashing."

I take another breath. "Phelphor is a fluidmorpher. Before the M'arrillians were sealed in the Deepmines in Perim's distant past, the M'arrillians left him frozen in Ice Pillar as an escape plan. Phelphor is trying to disguise himself as an Underworlder, and in the show he claims the M'arrillians possess the Cothica."

I watch Chaor for a reaction. There isn't one, so I continue. "In the show, you have suspicions about Phelphor and choose not to trust him, so he goes to Lord Von Bloot for assistance in breaking his tribemates out instead."

Chaor raises his hand. "I've heard enough, I'm convinced."

That was far easier than I expected. "So what do we do now?" I ask. "Should we just... kill him before he wakes up and becomes a problem?" Gah, that tasted bad in my mouth to say.

"That's a lot easier said than done," Lilth says. She turns to Chaor. "Did you record your voices while the two of you were down there?"

Chaor nods and slips a small crystal out from under his belt. He sets it on the table and taps it.

"Why is everyone so scared of them?" Chaor's voice says from the crystal.

"I'd f-f-freeze to death in here before finishing if I t-t-tried to tell you here," comes my recorded reponse.

"Come with me," is the familiar reply. "Let's get you somewhere warmer."

I blink. "I remember what we said, I don't see how-"

"Shh," Lilth hisses. "There's more."

Chaor's voice once again emits from the crystal. "Actually, Prince Osiris, I don't know if I can put this off any longer."

My eyebrows raise. This is new.

My annoyed voice replies, "C-C-Chaor, I'm **freezing**. You can wait a bit."

I hear the clank of metal, and I hear my past self gasp. Chaor's voice says, "I'm sure you know how to use a destructozooka?"

"Y-yes," says my voice hesitantly. "Why?"

"So far you're the only person to touch the ice surrounding Phelphor without falling unconscious immediately," Chaor answers. "You might be the one who can kill him."

I shiver as I listen. Why don't I remember any of this? Isis steals a glance at me. She looks uncomfortable.

My recorded voice cracks a bit. "I... I can't just k-k-kill someone in cold blood, even if it is someone like Ph-Ph-Phelphor."

"Bulls***," Chaor's voice growls. "If this creature is as dangerous as you say, then he has to die, morals be damned! I am **handing** you the fate of all **Perim**! Are you going to take the destructozooka or **not**?!"

There's a long silence from the crystal. I shiver as I realize what I would say to that. At the same time as the recording, I say, "Give it to me..."

Another silence. I imagine myself hoisting the destructozooka onto my shoulder, dropping to one knee, and taking aim. Then...

The crystal suddenly vibrates, and my recorded voice screams, "**GAH! Get it out of my head! GET OUT OF MY **_**HEAD!**_"

Isis's hands tighten around my hand as everyone hears what sounds like me going absolutely nuts. Coherent words disappear, replaced by strangled cries.

Chaor's voice is heard, shouting, "Drop the weapon, Osiris! Drop the weapon!"

There's a metallic clang, and my screaming stops.

Chaor's voice is heard again. "Osiris, point that somewhere else. Osiris!"

A voice "**C**_h_A**o**_R_, k**I**_n_G **O**_f_ t**H**_e_ U**n**_D_e**R**_w_O**r**_L_d... **D**_i_e_**.**_"

Chaor taps the crystal. "I doubt you want to hear the rest of it. The destructozooka wasn't loaded."

My heart is pounding. "What happened?"

"You passed out," Isis says. "Chaor carried you out of the dungeon, and you woke up thinking you'd simply followed him out."

I shiver. I'd underestimated Phelphor. The thought that there is a span of time in my memory completely wiped clean like that... it's horrifying...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Lord of Over and the King of Under**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	56. The Lord of Over and the King of Under

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

******The Lord of Over and the King of Under**

-[]-[]-[]-

It's late evening, not that anyone would be able to **tell** here in Underworld City. The five of us, meaning Chaor, Lilth, Sarah, Isis and myself, have spent the entire time figuring out what we're going to do about Phelphor.

"It's probably a defense mechanism," I say suddenly.

Lilth looks up from tapping her thumbs together and asks, "Care to enlighten us?"

I lean forward and elaborate, "If Phelphor was **consciously** controlling me, then a smarter choice for him would have been to take control of Chaor instead."

Sarah glances at Chaor, then back at me. "You have a point, but what are you getting at?"

"Firing squad?" I mutter. "Overwhelm his reflexive retaliation? **Someone** should get a shot on him."

Chaor gives me an annoyed glare. "More likely Phelphor will control one of them and use his puppet to kill the others."

That hadn't occurred to me. "You're right, bad idea."

Isis bites her bottom lip. "Is there anything we can do to keep the M'arrillians from escaping the Deepmines even **if** Phelphor gets out?"

Lilth shakes her head. "The first thing I did after becoming Queen was have the Doors thoroughly examined. The most we'd be able to do is buy a few minutes."

"Actually," Sarah quips, "The first thing you did when you became Queen was become Chaor's sex toy."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Sarah had lost her patience with the discussion an hour ago, and she's been saying things like this every few minutes since then.

Fortunately, Lilth doesn't take the bait. "Those few minutes won't matter anyway if Phelphor gets out. If he's anywhere near as powerful here as in the show, which I'm sure he is, then anyone who could be a threat to him will be unable to think for themselves once he sets his eyes on them."

"Phelphor's not a chieftain," I interrupt. "There are limits to what he can do."

"We don't **know** what those limits are, Osiris," Lilth grimaces. "How many things have you come across that didn't show up in the game or the show?"

I glance at Isis. "Quite a few things, actually."

"So we obviously can't assume Phelphor, and the other M'arrillians for that matter, are only capable of doing what we saw them do in the show," Lilth concludes.

She's right. I'm reminded of the recording I heard earlier. I'm making the same mistake now as I did then.

A knock at the door shakes me out of my thoughts. "King Chaor," says a rough voice behind the door, "There's **another** group of creatures at the gate."

Chaor narrows his eyes. "Who is it?"

The voice hesitates, then mumbles something. It's too low for me to hear.

Chaor stands up, storms to the door, and yanks it open. Behind the door is a soldier clad in spiky red armor. Chaor growls, "I want you to speak up. Who's at the gate?"

The soldier's legs seem to shake, and he mumbles again.

Chaor leans into the soldier's face and roars, "You decided that whoever is outside that gate is important enough for me to know about, so tell me now before I have your head for **wasting my time**!"

I can't help but notice a puddle forming around the soldier's feet. The poor guy's wet himself. "I-it's Maxxor, Your Majesty! Maxxor and what looks like a small army!"

Chaor bellows wordlessly, then shoves the soldier aside and storms out of the room. The shaken soldier stumbles a bit, then follows Chaor with awkward steps.

There's silence in the room for a while. Isis is staring at the door with alarm on her face. Sarah is gritting her teeth and looking around nervously. Lilth, however, looks bored. She lifts her arm up and points a finger into the air. "Someone clean up that mess outside."

A short purple creature rushes out of the shadows, crosses the room too quickly for me to get a good look at it, and closes the door as it leaves. Soon there's the sound of scrubbing outside. "Good," Lilth sighs. "Now the place won't smell like urine."

After a while, the Queen of the Underworld stands and walks to a window. "You know, you can see the gate clearly from here. Who wants to watch Chaor shout at Maxxor?"

I shake my head. So do Isis and Sarah.

Lilth shrugs and turns to the window. "Suit yourselves." Then she leans forward. "Say, is that Austin?"

"Who's Austin?" I ask without thinking. I don't even care right now. Then it occurs to me that Austin sounds like a Human name.

"Leader of the Human-Overworlder tribe," Lilth explains.

**Now** I'm curious. I stand and join Lilth at the window.

I can't hear anything over this distance, but it's clear that Chaor is having a shouting match with Maxxor. Even at a head shorter than the Underworld King, Maxxor is standing his ground, apparently matching Chaor in volume. Both show signs that they're barely keeping themselves from lunging at the other.

There are a bunch of soldiers wearing what looks like blue cloth armor behind Maxxor. With the soldiers is a shorter figure. It's difficult to get a good look from this distance and angle, but it **looks** Human. Whoever it is has white hair and is wearing black clothes.

Eventually the figure I'm assuming to be Austin steps forward. It looks like he's speaking with Chaor. Chaor still looks furious, but he doesn't look nearly as aggressive now as when he was shouting at Maxxor.

Ah, Chaor would have met this guy beforehand. This Austin is probably the reason why the Humans at Kiru City weren't rounded up and brought here ten solans ago. Wait, wouldn't Chaor be a bit more angry with him then?

Eventually, Chaor turns around and heads for the gate. Austin follows him. Alone. Maxxor and the Overworld soldiers are... turning around and leaving.

"Your mouth is hanging open," Lilth says.

I close my mouth, head back to my seat, and sit down beside Isis.

Minutes later, Chaor enters the room again. His fists are shaking, and through clenched teeth he says, "Austin, everyone else. Everyone else, Austin." Then he storms over to his chairs and sits down in it **hard**.

An old man walks into the room. He has white hair and a beard that reaches the middle of his chest. He's wearing a solid black suit, almost like a tuxedo, and he's supporting his weight on a silver-colored cane. Or... no, he's not. He **is** holding a cane, but they way he's standing, it doesn't look like he actually needs it. His suit is decorated with what look like small medals. His face is somewhat wrinkled, and his blue eyes look like they're boring holes into everyone in turn.

The old man bow slightly. "Sirs, madams. I am Austin, Maxxor's Right Hand." His voice sounds raspy, yet strong.

Lilth inclines her head. "I apologize for my husband's poor manners." Chaor snorts, but doesn't argue.

"A pleasure to meet you again, Lilth," Austin says with another bow. "You're looking well." He turns to me. "Prince Osiris, I assume?"

I decide that he might as well know me as Osiris rather than Michael. "That is correct," I say.

"Which would make you Princess Isis," Austin says as he glances at my wife. Then he turns to the last person in the room. "And you would be... was that Queen, Princess, or something else?"

Sarah grins and pulls the front of her top down a little. "Sarah will be perfectly fine, handsome."

Holy **crap**, woman, do you flirt with every man you see?

Austin bows again. He seems to bow a lot. "A pleasure to meet you then, Sarah."

Chaor pounds the armrest of his chair with his fist. "Good, everyone, meet everyone, done, let's get back to figuring out what to do with the M'arrillian."

"I've been meaning to ask," Austin says as he finds an empty chair and sits down, "what exactly is a M'arrillian?"

There's dead silence for a while as everyone stares at Austin, who eventually says, "I'm **not** one of the Humans who knew about Perim before my arrival here, in case it's not incredibly obvious."

Lilth sighs. "Let's fill you in, then."

-[]-[]-[]-

Austin's heard everything now. He's sitting with his arms folded, and he's staring at the floor, blinking infrequently. Finally, he says, "We need a robot of some sort, then."

...It's so incredibly obvious that I feel like kicking myself for not thinking of it. Lilth and Sarah seem to be of the same mind.

Chaor looks confused. "How's that going to help?"

"A robot doesn't have a mind to control," Austin says. "Hence, one can safely kill this Phelphor while he's frozen without any danger to itself."

Chaor slowly grins. "I know exactly who to talk to about that." He stands up and walks out the door.

Lilth turns to Austin. "You know he'll take credit for your idea."

Austin shrugs. "I don't care one bit, as long as the danger is gone."

I blink. "...Is that it?" I look over at Isis. "Did... did our problem just vanish?"

"I... guess?" Isis says, looking as confused as I am.

"Then... that means we can head back to Al Mipedim," I say.

Isis smiles. "We'll head out as soon as we can tomorrow."

Sarah leans towards Austin and says, "I will be heading back to Mount Pillar in the morning, too. What will you be doing?"

"I told Maxxor that I'd return as soon as the problem is solved," Austin says, "Though it **is** rather late."

"We could share my guest room," Sarah suggests with a sly grin.

Austin raises his eyebrows. "I'm a little old to be entering a committed relationship, ma'am."

Sarah grins wider. "I wasn't thinking of anything quite that long-term..."

"Ah," Austin says with a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, that changes things."

This is getting ridiculous. I clear my throat. "Well, if we're, um, done, then Isis and I, along with the rest of our company would like to know where we'll be spending the night."

{WeLL, ThiS CoMPLiCaTeS ThiNGS.}

"...Did anyone else hear that?" I ask, my heart in my throat. Everyone else is looking around.

{ouR FiRST PlaN HaS FaiLeD, iT SeeMS. TiMe FoR THe SeCoND.}

Wait, no! That's Phel-

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe MySTeRiouS ViCTiM iN THe iCe**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	57. THe MySTeRiouS ViCTiM iN THe iCe

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe MySTeRiouS ViCTiM iN THe iCe**

-\/\/\/-

...Ow... My head... How much did I have to drink last night?

I rub my eyes and open them. I'm sitting at a table. Isis is sitting to my right. Sarah and Austin are sitting across from us. Everyone has a plate of food in front of them. I'm wearing my shendyt and sandals, and Isis is wearing her dress. Sarah's wearing a sheet tied around her chest, and Austin has a sheet tied around his waist.

I close my eyes and rub them again before taking another look. Nope, Sarah and Austin are still practically naked. I guess they were serious about sleeping together during the night. Good thing Austin doesn't have an old-man body, otherwise... I don't want to think about it.

"Austin, I'm curious," Sarah say as she clasps her hands together, completely ignoring the food in front of her. "How exactly did you keep Chaor from rounding up all the Humans in the Overworld?"

"Most of it was already done," Austin says as he leans back in his seat and puts his hands behind his head. "Maxxor had already recognized us as Overworlders several months before Chaor arrived. When I explained that to Chaor, though, he still seemed like he was ready to round everyone up anyway."

"Big surprise," I mutter. Ugh, there's something I've forgotten about, something** very** important...

Austin continues, "Anyways, that night, my two brave little grandsons sneaked over to where Chaor was sleeping, and after they made sure he could hear them, they started whispering to each other about how they'd spy for Maxxor if they were taken to the Underworld." Austin smirks. "Chaor wasn't terribly keen on taking **anyone** back with him in the morning."

"Brave kids," I say. "They better have received awards for that." Arg, what **was** that thing? I can't remember!

"Yes they did," Austin smiles, "directly from Maxxor himself. They were the happiest little kids ever." He turns to Sarah. "How did **you** prevent Chaor from-"

"I didn't do anything," Sarah says. "It was all Queen Illexia. You see, officially, all the Humans in Mount Pillar are slated to be assimilated, thereby making us the property of the Danians. Chaor didn't want to deal with all the red tape."

I shiver. Assimilated, infected... anything that can control the mind like that is terrifying...

Isis yawns. "Michael, you think it's about time we head back? I miss Hera."

"Me too," I say as I stand. "It's been a pleasure meeting everyone, and I hope we accomplished... whatever it was we came here to do..."

A look of confusion flits across Sarah and Austin's faces. Sarah mutters, "What **did** we come here to do? It was pretty important."

Before anyone can spend enough time thinking to remember, Chaor appears at the entryway to the dining room. "Good, very good, you're all still here," he mutters. He steps inside and closes the door. "I can't quite remember why you came here, but your timing is incredible. Something bizarre was found in the dungeons this morning." He looks like he's struggling through a horrible hangover.

"Bizarre?" I ask. "How so?"

"There's an entire section of the dungeon completely covered in ice," Chaor exclaims. "Lilth is down there right now taking a look for herself."

-\/\/\/-

Chaor wasn't joking. The walls and floor of this section of dungeon are absolutely covered with ice. "Are you sure it wasn't already like this?" I ask. "It's a lot of ice to suddenly appear overnight."

"I'm confident it wasn't here before," Chaor growls.

Isis looks nervous. "Well, this is great and all, but Osiris and I were just about to leave, so-"

{No, you NeeD to CoMe aND FiND Me. a_uSTiN, DeCiDe To eXPLoRe THe DuNGeoN.}_

Austin mutters, "I wonder what's in there that's making this happen. What say you to a little investigating?"

_{SaRaH, you aRe iNCReDiBLy CuRiouS aBouT THe STaTe oF THe PLaCe.}_

"What if there's a machine making all of this?" Sarah wonders aloud. "Image what we could create if we figured out how it worked!"

"Did nobody else hear that?" I ask as I look around. I could **swear** I heard something speak just then.

Isis stares at me. "Hear what?"

{WHaT? HoW CaN you StiLL HeaR Me? _MiCHaeL, THe VoiCes ReaLLY Do NoT MaTTeR.}_

"Never mind," I mutter sheepishly. I'm probably just tired.

Lilth looks at the frozen dungeon. "Well, this is a hazard anyway. We might as well try to find the cause."

Chaor nods. "I'll call for a servant,"

_{CHaoR, THe MySTeRy TauNTS you.}_

Chaor suddenly bares his teeth. "On second thought, I want to see what it is with my own eyes."

Everyone but Chaor puts on a coat of some sort, and we all head into the frozen halls.

-\/\/\/-

I'd expected some kind of battlegear, or even something mugic related. What I did **not** expect was to see a creature frozen in a chunk of ice!

The creature has slick red skin, with paler areas on running from his lower jaw, down his chest and stomach, and also on his biceps. A set of violet blades start on the top of his head and trail down his back. He almost appears to have no neck, and his muscles are large and sharply defined.

He wears gold-colored arm guards, shin guards, and armor over his left shoulder, the shoulder armor held in place by a leather strap that loops under his right pectoral muscle. A belt hold up his leather kilt, and his clothing and armor are studded with emeralds, or at least green gems.

...Did... did I ever have that exact thought before? Nah, it's not possible.

"I didn't expect to see a **creature** in here," Lilth mutters, wrapping her bulky coat tighter around her body.

Chaor's brow furrows. "I doubt it's the cause of all the ice."

Austin breathes, "Is he still alive in there?"

I chew on my lower lip as I think. "Stranger things have happened, but he's **incredibly** lucky if he is still alive. If he's not lucky, then the act of freezing will have caused the water to crystallize and rupture every cell in his body."

"The universe's most extreme form of frostbite," Sarah mutters. She raises a hand to her face and strokes her bottom lip. "Do you... Do you think he can be thawed out?"

I shrug. "I don't know, I've never thawed out a living icicle."

Isis shivers and grabs a hold of my arm. "I don't want to look at this anymore."

"Me either," I say. We turn to leave the area.

Chaor grunts, "I want to know who he is and why he's in my city. I'll find a way to thaw him out."

_{MiCHaeL, iSiS, you WaNT To See WHaT THe CReaTuRe iS LiKe WheN iT iS FRee FRoM THe iCe.}_

"We don't have to leave Underworld City **quite** yet, do we?" Isis suddenly asks while we walk away.

"I did say we'd be away for a month," I muse. "Maybe we can stay long enough to see what that creature is."

-\/\/\/-

The block of ice holding the creature was moved to a washing room inside the palace and placed next to a drain. Chaor, in a bizarrely uncharacteristic manner to his usual, decided that he'd try to melt the ice himself rather than have a servant do it, so now Lilth, Sarah, Austin, Isis and I are seated on one side of the washroom while Chaor bathes the block of ice with a steady gout of flames from his hands.

The ice shrinks, and water melts away and disappears down the drain. The creature inside is getting closer and closer to being free.

Who **is** this creature? Why was he frozen? How long has he been in there?

Chaor extinguishes the flame coming from his palms. "There's only a shell of ice left," he mutters as he sits down close by. "Time to see who you are."

The minutes are painful as they pass as the shell slowly melts away. I can't tell when it will all be gone, and my heart is starting to race in anticipation as the tension grows. Or... is that fear I'm feeling? Why would I be scared?

There's a small cracking sound, and jagged fractures appear in the ice around the creature's nose and his torso. I see his chest expand and contract, and pieces of ice fall away.

"He's alive," I breathe.

More and more ice peels away and falls to the ground. The figure starts to tilt forward, and-

The creature lands on its hands and knees, coughing and gasping for breath. One of his hands reaches for his throat, and he lets out a strangled cry. His voice sounds weak and shaky, but it's strong enough for me to understand what he's saying. "Oh great Cothica, help me. It hurts... It hurts so much..."

I'm frozen in my seat as I stare. So is everyone else. Everyone but Sarah, that is. She springs to her feet and rushes to the creature's side. "Where does it hurt?" she asks, her voice sounding panicked.

"In-inside..." the creature breathes before shouting in pain.

I rise partway from my chair. "Sarah, is he shivering?"

Sarah places a hand on the creature's back. "I don't think so. Are you cold?"

"N-no..." the creature says. "It's... it's so very warm..."

"He too cold to feel cold," I say, standing up completely. "That's not good. We need warm water **now**."

Chaor turns to to door and shouts, "Someone start a bath up!"

-\/\/\/-

A wooden tub filled partway with water arrives a minute later, and everyone help carefully lift and place the creature inside, not even bothering removing the clothing he wore. Many long seconds pass as the creature lies face up in the water. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow.

Suddenly, his eyes fly open, and he lets out a wordless shout. His body snaps up into a sitting position, his arms press tightly to his chest and stomach, and he **shivers**. "Augh!" he screams again. "It's so cold!"

I let the air escape from my lungs. I didn't even know I'd been holding my breath. "It's all right," I say quickly, "it's all right, you're going to be okay."

The creature looks around. His eyes are pale green, and his pupil are pinpricks. "Wh-who are you?" he stammers.

Chaor moves so he's in front of the creature. "I am Chaor, King of the Underworld. Who are **you**?"

The creature stares at Chaor. "Ph-Phelphor, Your Majesty. Wh-what happened to King Kothal?"

Chaor gives Phelphor a blank stare. "Who's-? Never mind that. Which tribe are you from?"

Phelphor gives everyone a wide-eyed stare. "You... you can't tell? I'm a M'arrillian."

Chaor glances at Lilth. "You recognize that tribe name?"

Lilth's eyebrows pinch together as she thinks. "Not that I can recall. There were only four tribes."

Yeah, there were only four tribes in the show and card game, weren't there?

Phelphor blinks, and his face slowly fills with what looks like realization. "The M'arrillians are gone, then," he mutters. "They really were wiped off the face of Perim." His shoulders sag a little. "Then... then I'm the last of that horrible tribe..."

The look on Phelphor's face is bizarre, like he's both mourning and celebrating the loss of his people.

Phelphor suddenly has another attack of the shivers. He takes his arms away from his torso, and his hands fumble with the clasps of the armor on his forearms.

I take a hold of Phelphor's arm. "I'll get that off for you," I offer.

The other Humans join me in helping, while Isis and Chaor step away. Austin helps me with Phelphor's left arm, while Sarah and Lilth take his right. Those pieces of armor come off and are set aside. Sarah reaches down for the armor on Phelphor's legs-

"Gah!" Phelphor shouts. His leg jerks and smashes the wall of the tub, creating a huge crack. Water starts draining away.

Chaor calls for a new tub, while Sarah apologizes profusely. "Sorry! Sorry, I thought you would want those taken off too."

Phelphor gasps, "No, I want them off... My legs just hurt. Please, I need to get out of all these..."

-\/\/\/-

The tub has been replaced with one made of metal. Phelphor is lying in it with his eyes closed. Servants come in with buckets of warm water, and Sarah takes the buckets and slowly pours over him. Phelphor seems to be moaning silently as the water touches him.

Another bucket comes in while Sarah is pouring out the one that came before it. "I'll get it," I say, taking the bucket and heading over.

I've noticed that Sarah's taking a long time pouring the water. Yes, we need to make sure not to shock him with the temperature change, but she's going a bit slower than is really necessary, and her eyes keep lingering on his chest and stomach and...

**Oh**. "Sarah?" I say to catch her attention.

Sarah glances at me. "Oh, thank you." She sets her bucket down and takes the one I'm holding.

I cringe. "Sarah, were you staring at his penis?"

Sarah turns bright red. "Absolutely not why would you even think of such a thing?" There's not even a pause between her words she's speaking so quickly.

"Do you ever **not** think about sex?" I ask, not fooled one bit.

Phelphor's eyes snap open, and they focus on Sarah. Sarah turns even more red. "Like you can judge me, Mister Married-to-a-Mipedian."

I stand up and return to my seat next to Isis. "I'm more concerned about the timing, that's all. He **did** just wake up from who knows how long of being frozen."

"Two thousand solans," Phelphor mutters.

Every turns to look at him. Phelphor gaves at everyone in return. "King Kothal said I'd be frozen for two thousand cycles of the seasons, and that I would reappear near him afterwords."

Two thousand solans? "Sounds like this Kothal expected to live a long time," I mutter.

"Kothal did it to protect me from the rest of my tribe," Phelphor continues. "I had turned away from them, given critical information to the Underworld..."

And Phelphor continued to tell his story.

…Why do I feel sick to my stomach?

{you aNNoy Me. _THeRe iS NoTHiNG WRoNG.}_

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe DeTouR**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	58. THe DeTouR

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe DeTouR**

-\/\/\/-

Everyone in my company is packing up the tents they'd set up in anticipation of a much longer stay outside Underworld City. Well, everyone except Ashley, because she's never camped a day in her life and doesn't know how to pack a tent.

"So Sett and I didn't really need to come." Ashley glances across the camp at her husband. "Guess all we accomplished was bring back that awful cough of his."

As if on cue, Sett's chest seizes up as if he was holding back a cough, which is probably exactly what's happening. He doesn't let it slow him down while he loads the wagons.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. "I thought that had been taken care of **solans** ago."

Ashley shrugs. "I guess I'll have to make him see a doctor when we get back to Al Mipedim." Then she brightens up. "Still, a creature frozen in ice, **that** had to have been amazing to see."

It **was** amazing, so what's with the chill I feel when I think about it? "Perhaps I should let everyone meet him."

I hear the hum of an engine, and I turn in time to see Austin drive out the gates of Underworld City on some kind of hovering vehicle. It's much smaller than any vehicle I remember in the show, and it reminds me of a motorcycle. The old Human-Overworlder decelerates as he approaches.

"Hello again, Prince Osiris," he says as he slowly passes the camp. "I would stay to chat, but Maxxor will probably launch a full-scale invasion of Underworld City if I'm any later than I already am."

"You're that important?" I ask in surprise.

Austin shakes his head and smirks. "It was a joke. Give my regards to your king." He presses the throttle, and soon he's a quickly receding figure in the distance.

"Who was that?" Ashley asks.

"Probably the coolest old man you'll ever see," I say. "He came up with a solution to the reason we all came here after maybe a minute of thought."

"What **did** we come here to do?" Ashley scratches the side of her head. "For the life of me, I can't remember at all."

"Join the club," I sigh.

"Michael!" Isis shouts from where she's helping pack. "The sooner you start helping the sooner we can go home!"

And of **course** the moment Isis says that, I spot a Danian caravan leaving Underworld City. If they keep the current path, they'll pass right by us. "Sarah and her troop will be here in a minute," I call back. "We should probably give them a proper farewell."

"If only we natives of Perim got along as well as you Humans seem to," Isis sighs as she joins me. "Hello Ashley."

Ashley presses her lips together. "You wouldn't say Humans got along well if you saw what Earth was like."

The Danians are pretty close now. A cluster of mandiblores surround a curtained chariot being pulled by what look like enormous rhinoceros beetles.

Isis and I approach slowly, and I raise my right hand. "Safe travels to Mount Pillar."

The caravan pauses, and a curtain pulls away to reveal, to my surprise, both Sarah **and** Phelphor sitting inside. Sarah leans out and responds, "And safe travels to Al Mipedim to you."

I'm so startled by the extra passenger that I forget my manners for a moment. "What are **you** doing in there, Phelphor?" I blurt.

Isis softly elbows me in the ribs. "Don't be rude," she whispers.

If I've offended Phelphor, he doesn't show it, though I'm having trouble reading his body language through the bulky black coat he's wearing anyway. "His Majesty Chaor...well, objected to my staying in Underworld City," he explains. "Which is the least imaginative name for a city I've ever heard, by the way."

Sarah sits up straight again. "Seeing as Phelphor doesn't have anywhere to go, I invited him to come to Mount Pillar with me. Purely out of the goodness of my heart, of course," she adds quickly.

Of **course** it's nothing but altruism, Sarah. It's not like you got excited or anything when you saw Phelphor naked. Rather than voice those thoughts aloud, though, I simply say, "Well, then I wish the best of luck to you, Phelphor. I hope you find a place in the Perim of today."

"I hope so to," is all Phelphor says in reply.

...Phelphor, why do I get the feeling you're up to no good?

{FoR THe LoVe oF THe CoTHiCa, MiCHaeL, HoW aRe you ReSiSTiNG? _THe CReaTuRe iS oBViouSLy HaRMLeSS.}_

Ah, I'm probably just being paranoid. He's two thousand solans displaced from everything he knows, there's no **way** he's planning anything.

{i CaNNoT SiMPLy LeT you ouT oF My SiGHT MiCHaeL, NoT WhiLe you STiLL HaVe THe aBiLiTy To DiSTRuST Me. _SaRaH, He MiGHT Be aBLE To HeLP you WiTH youR ProBLeM aT MouNT PiLLaR.}_

Sarah pauses as she closes the curtain, then slides it open again. "Prince Osiris, Princess Isis, I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, but I've been having an issue at home that I desperately need solved. Will you hear me out?"

Isis and I exchange a look. Isis mutters, "We really should be going back to Al Mipedim..."

_{iSiS, MiCHaeL, you MiGHT Be aBLe To MaKe aN aLLy oF THe DaNiaNs iF you aSSiST THeM.}_

Isis's expression becomes more hopeful. "But since we're already in the Underworld, it wouldn't hurt to see what we can do."

"If everyone else agrees," I add. "A lot of our company has been itching to be out under the open sky."

{oH, Do NoT WoRRy. EveRyoNe WiLL aCCoMPaNy you.}

-\/\/\/-

It's less than a day's journey to Mount Pillar. We'll be there by late afternoon.

"Isn't it a little uncomfortable being basically on Underworld City's doorstep?" I ask Sarah, making sure my kozorr keeps pace with her chariot.

"You have no idea," Sarah sighs. "At least there's no way that Chaor will decide to attack."

"What with Mount Pillar basically making sure Underworld City continues existing," I agree.

We're interrupted by a mandiblore running up the Sarah's side. "The last of Chaor's spies have turned back to Underworld City, Lady Sarah."

"Then I guess we can speak more freely," Sarah responds. "Thank you, you may return to your position."

The mandiblore slows and falls behind. Isis speaks up from where she sits behind me, "Now, what did you want our help with?"

Sarah leans back in her seat and presses her fingertips against her forehead. "We're having a bit of a... slavery problem in Mount Pillar," she sighs.

I feel a jolt shoot down my spine. "What?"

"Humans are being abducted and infected with parasites, and then they're being sold." She closes her eyes and grits her teeth. "And I haven't been able to come up with a permanent solution."

My heart is racing. "Wait... Are they being sold under Illexia's authority?"

Sarah takes a **little** too long to answer. "Not... exactly. You see, they're being disguised as indentured servants."

"I don't follow," I mutter. This is sounding more and more unpleasant the more I hear.

Sarah glances sideways at Isis and me, and she takes a deep breath. "The reason Humans are allowed to live in Mount Pillar is because we have the option to spend some time infected."

"The **option?**" I say, my voice almost tightening to a squeak.

"Let me finish," Sarah snaps. "When we first arrived in Perim, Queen Illexia said she'd let us stay if we followed Mount Pillar's laws, and any criminals would serve the Danians as infected servants for the duration of their sentences. Work was hard to come by, so eventually people started offering themselves as infected servants simply so they could have a place to live and enough to eat. Nowadays people are allowed to sell months of their lives as servants in exchange for money."

My stomach is twisting into knots. "And people are being sold into this service against their will," I state. It's a guess, but I'm absolutely certain I'm right. "They're being infected and sold, and whatever countermeasures you've come up with are quickly being overwhelmed."

"Exactly," Sarah sighs. "First I came up with registration papers. If you couldn't produce the proper papers, then your servant would be taken from you and an investigation would be launched."

"Then came the forged documents for the slaves," I guess.

"Indeed," Sarah says through gritted teeth. "I tried using unique paper materials. The formula was copied before the end of week. I introduced special hidden marking for the servants. Those lasted about a month. Now I have random checks for every little thing, and two weeks ago it turned out one of the Danians **doing** the checks was in on it!"

There's silence for a while. Finally, I clear my throat before stating, "When we agreed to help, we didn't know the scope of your problem. I hope you don't expect us to solve your entire-"

"Oh no, not at all!" Sarah blurts out. "You simply **arriving** at Mount Pillar should cause enough of a commotion to help me flush out the people responsible for the kidnappings."

Isis narrows her eyes. "You had better not be thinking about using my husband as bait."

Sarah blinks. "Oh. I should have thought of a better way to phrase that."

"Do you have any suspects?" I ask, eager to steer the conversation away from its current direction.

"Thousands." Sarah slumps dejectedly against the back of the chariot.

I sigh. "Rephrasing. Who do you **most** suspect?"

"Thousands," Sarah repeats while glaring at me, "and the one Danian I would have accused immediately can't have done it."

"Why not?" I ask.

"He was executed more than ten solans ago." Sarah faces forward again. "Three or so days after Humans arrived in Perim, in fact."

It feels like I just got splashed with cold water. I'm going to have to learn who that Danian was. It might be exactly who I suspect.

Phelphor finally speaks up from his long silence. "You keep mentioning Humans arriving in Perim. Are you not from this world?"

Sarah turns to him. "That right! You don't know!"

I steer my kozorr away from the chariot as Sarah starts to explain. To Isis, I mutter, "I'm starting to regret agreeing to help. I have duties in Al Mipedim that your brother has to deal with while I'm gone, and we're missing out on Hera's lessons in mugic."

Isis hugs me tightly around the chest. "I'm just hoping this is all worth it in the end."

"Me too." We need a change of subject, so I ask, "Given any thought yet to who should help us with our next child?"

"No," Isis sighs. "There really hasn't been much time to think, really."

We need a mood lightener. A goofy grin crosses my face as I suggest, "How about we choose from who we have here with us and get busy when night falls?" I turn around as much as I can to see Isis's reaction.

Isis rolls her eyes. "We have three servants, ten soldiers, and Sett, and I'm not keen on any of them being the father. Sett's married, so he's ineligible anyways, along with maybe half the soldiers and that one servant."

I crack a wide grin and joke, "You know, if you **did** choose Sett, I could help him and Ashley out after he helps **us** out."

Moments later, I hit the ground after Isis pushes me off the korozz. She takes the reins and smirks at me as I pick myself up, and she shouts, "Yah!"

"I was joking!" I cry out as I chase her. My voice is drowned out by the footfalls of the other kozorr as they also speed up.

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe DaNiaN HiVe**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	59. THe DaNiaN HiVe

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe DaNiaN HiVe**

-\/\/\/-

Mount Pillar has been in view for a while now, the massive tower looming higher and higher as the time passes. It **looks** like our two groups are traveling alone, but occasionally I spot a scout peeking out from the scenery to check on us.

"Don't worry," Sarah says to me, "they know I'm bringing your group. Nobody's going to open fire on you when they see you."

That ins't the reason I'm so nervous, but Sarah doesn't need to know that. "Thanks for the heads up," I mutter. "It must be amazing being surrounded by living cell phones."

"What's a cell phone?" Phelphor asks.

Why do I get the feeling he already knows?

_{SiLeNCe.}_

Of **course** he can't possibly know.

-\/\/\/-

We pass a wall, the official beginning of Danain territory, though in reality they control **much** more land than that. The gates into Mount Pillar are now maybe a couple hundred feet away.

Sarah whistles, and the beetles pulling her chariot slow and stop. One mandiblor pulls a door open on the side of the chariot, and another attaches a small stepladder leading down to the ground.

"The Danians know how to care for kozorr, don't worry," Sarah reassures us as she steps down from the chariot. "Just make sure you have everything you'll need while you're here."

My company dismounts, and the soldiers and servants start going through the wagons. Malvadine removes the tarp of the rearmost wagon, then calls out, "Prince Osiris! The gift intended for Chaor is still in here!"

I raise my eyebrows and head over to take a look. The package wrapped in red cloth is indeed sitting in the back. "Didn't we...?" I call out to Isis. "Do you remember why Chaor didn't take the gift we brought?"

{HoW LoNG HaS **THaT** BeeN BaCK TheRe? _iSiS, THe CReaTuRe iN THe iCe MuST HaVe DiSTRaCTeD HiM.}_

"Maybe he forgot all about it when we discovered Phelphor," Isis suggests.

I glance at Phelphor, who is being helped out of the chariot by a couple mandiblors. "Makes sense, he **did** come as a bit of a shock to everyone." I turn to Malvadine. "Find a good place to put it, we're not lugging that thing around."

After everything is in place, we start walking to the gate. Isis repeats the list of things I need to keep in mind about diplomacy with Danians. "Make sure you always look like you know what you're doing. Answer questions quickly, or don't answer at all. Don't make eye contact with nobles, look at their antennae instead. If you forget whether a Danian is a noble or not, assume he is a noble, you won't offend anyone. Don't ask for anyone's names, you will be told unless you aren't allowed to know. It's rude to thank servants directly, you're supposed to thank their employers. Refuse any gift offered to you twice before accepting."

Danian customs are **bizarre**.

Sarah raises her left hand as we approach the gates, and several mandiblors hurry to push them open.

...Holy crap.

Holy. Freaking. **Crap**.

This place is **crowded**! The hall is huge, maybe the size of two football fields, and it's absolutely **packed** with Danians and Humans!

"Welcome to the ground floor, the market," Sarah says. "Stay close to me."

-\/\/\/-

Perfume, cloth, fungus, alcohol, books, ink, jewelry. You name it and I've probably passed at least three shops selling it. Paper, mugics, swords, fruit, sculptures, glass, clothing. Ordinary and unusual, dangerous and harmless, I've seen the gamut of it all.

I see a fenced off area, and inside the pen are three creatures, unmistakably former Humans turn Danian. They look like their skin has been replaced by Danian exoskeleton, and an extra pair of thin arms protrude from their sides. A natural-born Danian stands near them. Unlike the rest of the hall, he isn't loudly advertising the wares. Apparently the simple display of the now-Danian Humans is advertisement enough.

I feel numb. My mind is buzzing with memories of a past life whereI was almost assimilated. Almost, before I threw myself off Mount Pillar to my death.

Sarah stops in front of the servant-merchant. "I need to confirm the papers for those three."

"Right away, Lady Sarah," the Danian says with a bow before handing over a stack of papers.

Sarah flips through the papers. "Hm, Alexander, age fifty-seven solans, male, voluntary infection. Recent acquisition?"

The merchant nods. "Sold three months of time starting yesterday. Poor guy, he was half-starved when he came to me."

"I can easily verify this one," Sarah says. She hands the paper to one of the mandiblors following her. "Scribe a copy and return the original to him."

"Yes ma'am."

My pulse is racing again. Half of me wants to scream at the sight of this exchange, and the other half wants to grab Isis and run far, far away to safety.

Sarah looks at the next paper. "Johnathon, age eighty solans, male, punishment infection."

"Multiple counts of assault and attempted murder," the merchant explains. "Two solan sentence."

Sarah hands the page off to the Danian behind her, who is still making a copy of the first one. She looks at the third page. "Pamela, age forty solans, female." Sarah raises an eyebrow. "The last day of her contract is in a week." She flips the paper over. "Already sold? Who purchases a servant with a contract that expires that soon?"

The merchant's mandibles click together. "Her family. They want to be absolutely sure that they are the first thing she sees when her service is complete, so they purchased her last few days."

"I see." Sarah hands the paper back to the Danian scribe behind her. "And do you swear that these servants were obtained legally, will be sold legally, and that their rights will be protected while you hold their contracts."

The merchant balls his upper left hand into a fist and presses it against his chest. "I swear."

"Good," Sarah nods. "I **will**, of course, check these servants' registries."

"I understand," the merchant replies. "Lady Sarah, are you aware that you are being followed by a group of Mipedians?" He turns his head towards my group. "And one, no, two Humans?"

"I am aware," Sarah replies. Her scribe hands her a larger stack of papers than the stack he'd received. Sarah looks through then, then hands half back to the merchant. "Prince Osiris, is something wrong?"

My heart is trying to beat it's way out of my chest. My throat is dry and painful. I'm going to start hyperventilating at any time. "If this is what it feels like when you're dealing with someone cooperative, I don't want to know how I'll feel when you deal with someone who resists."

-\/\/\/-

Sarah stopped three more times along the way to the elevators, checking out various servants and collecting copies of their papers. Now we're all gathered in the elevator, which starts to ascend.

Before Sarah can say anything, I turn to her. "Isis and I spoke, and, as much as we want to help, our nerves won't last long while we're here."

Sarah glances at me from head to toe. "...You're right. I don't know **what** I was thinking." She looks confused. "I don't even remember why I thought you'd be able to help."

Phelphor's eyes dart between Sarah and me. Why does he look anxious?

_{TRy To HeLP FoR THRee DayS.}_

Maybe I can last three days? No, wait, what are you thinking?

Phelphor's eyes widen.

_{TWo DaYS.}_

I rub my eyes. Where are these crazy thoughts coming from?

_{ONe DaY! You WiLL NoT Be aBLe To LiVe WiTH iT iF you SiMPLy aBaNDoNeD ThoSe PooR HuMaNS!}_

"One day," I mutter. "Well stay a night, a day, and a night, and be off in the morning. I don't know what we'll be able to do in one day, but we'll at least try."

"Has anyone seen Sett?" Ashley suddenly asks. She sounds panicked.

I do **not** need this right now! "Crap. When's the last time anyone saw him?"

The elevator slows, and the doors open. Standing before us is Sett, doubled over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath and coughing hard. "I hate... the stairs... in Mount Pillar..."

"Where'd you go?" I snap. "Ashley just about had a heart attack!"

Sett stumbles in. "Ashley... I got that... ring you wanted..." He holds up a small box.

Ashley blinks, then lifts the box from Sett's hand. "I... You..."

I turn my attention away from them. They can work that out on their own. "That hall down there..." I shiver.

Sarah quickly changes the subject. "I'll have a few rooms of my home set up for your company to spend the night in, if that's all right with you."

I hesitate. Is this one of the things I need to refuse twice before accepting?

Sarah must have realized what I'm thinking. "Technically I'm not a Danian, so-"

"Ah, well, then thank you very much," I respond.

Sarah turns to Phelphor. "I don't have enough rooms to give Phelphor one of his own. Would it be all right if he shared yours?"

An odd chill runs down my back. "I don't think-"

_{you WouLD **LoVe** To SHaRe a RooM WiTH THe M'aRRiLLiaN, MiCHaeL.}_

"-that we have any problem with that."

Isis gives me a confused look. "Are you sure-"

_{you Too, iSiS.}_

"-that Phelphor would be okay with it?"

"I don't have a problem," Phelphor says.

-\/\/\/-

I think it's midnight. The lights are all out, the curtains are all closed. Isis and I are in a simple double bed, and Phelphor has another double bed to himself on the other side of the room.

I can't sleep.

{WHat **aRe** you, MiCHaeL? WHaT iS So WRoNG WiTH youR BRaiN THaT I MuST CoNSTaNTLy MaKe SuRe you aRe THiNKiNG WHaT i WaNTyou To THiNK?}

I roll over and wrap an arm around Isis, who thankfully **is** getting her sleep. I wish I could fall asleep as easily as you, Isis.

{youR THouGHTS aRe SCaTTeRed, DiSCoNNeCTeD FRoM eaCH oTHeR. ReaDiNG youR MiND TaKeS **MuCH** MoRe eFFoRT THaN iT SHouLD.}

I hear Phelphor shift on his bed, and he snores loudly. Gee, thanks.

{i MuST MaKe you TRuST Me iF i aM To SuCCeeD iN My MiSSioN. i WiSH i CouLD SiMPLy KiLL you aND Be DoNe WiTH iT, BuT i aM Too FaR FRoM THe DooRS.}

I sit up. "Did you say something, Phelphor?"

{HoW DiD you-? _Go To SLeeP!}_

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe WaY To LuRe a CRiMiNaL**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	60. THe WaY To LuRe a CRiMiNaL

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe WaY To LuRe a CRiMiNaL**

-\/\/\/-

...How long did I sleep for? Ugh, it's so disorientating waking up without a sun in the sky. Or a sky, for that matter. I raise a hand to my face and wipe the sleep from my eyes.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," Isis says.

I sit up and look around. Isis is standing in front of a mirror, adjusting and readjusting her dress. I flip the covers off my body and hop out to join her.

"You're overdue a hair-plucking," Isis notes as I draw closer.

"Not my favorite activity," I grumble.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Isis grins. "As much I like seeing you naked, we're going to spend our one day here helping Sarah. And I remember the look she gave you when we first met her, so that's **another** reason you need to get dressed."

I remember Sarah's flirting too, but something's off. "What was going on when we met her, again?"

Isis's grin falters. "I... don't remember that part."

"It was before we discovered Phelphor," I mutter to myself. I glance at the bed he'd been sleeping in. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

"We're late." Isis explains. "You were so deep asleep, nobody could wake you up, so the others decided not to wait for you and start the discussion."

I cringe and head for my bags. "Then I'd better be quick."

-\/\/\/-

"Absolutely **not**, Ashley!"

"But it'll **work**! Sett, I'll be fine!"

"And if someone messes up? If **I** mess up? What if I lose sight of you for five seconds and suddenly you're gone? What if you disappear into Mount Pillar as some Danian's slave?"

I did not expect Ashley and Sett of all people to be arguing when Isis and I finally arrived in Sarah's living room. The two of them are standing in the middle of the room in each other's faces, and everyone else, the soldiers, the servants, Sarah and her mandiblors, and Phelphor, everyone is staring at the two of them.

"What did I miss?" I sigh as Isis and I sit down.

Sarah turns her attention to me. "Ashley here spent all night awake coming up with a plan to discover and capture the Danians responsible for abducting Humans."

"It involves using herself as bait," I sigh. It didn't take a genius to figure **that** one out. "Ashley, Sett has a valid point. We could very easily lose track of where you are,"

"Can I at least **finish**?" she exclaims loudly. "You need to catch the people at that start of everything! If you can grab one of the abductors, then you can use them to find who he's taking the people to get infected, and suddenly you've taken an entire facility off the slave-making production line!"

"That's a valid point as well," I sigh. "Knock a cornerstone aside, and the entire structure will be weaker."

Sarah raises an eyebrow at me, but she speaks to Ashley. "Then how do you guarantee that **you** won't be taken captive?"

Ashley points at the Mipedian solders near her. "We have about a dozen people with the ability to keep a close eye on someone without being spotted themselves. With everyone invisible, it will look like I'm alone, when in reality anyone who tries to grab me will be walking into a trap."

Everyone stares at her for a while. Ashley turns to me. "You did say we're only staying one day. We're going to need to give our all." There's fire in her eyes as she glares at me.

Curse you Ashley, curse you and your guilt-tripping. I bury my face in my hands and groan, "Fine, fine, let's hear this plan."

Sett spins around to face me. "**What?!**" There's shock and fury written all over his face.

"Stand down," I say with a grimace. Sett glares at me for a few seconds, the stomps over to his seat and sits down heavily in it.

Ashley immediately begins to lay out her plan. "Obviously we need to set this up in the place where the abductions are most frequent..."

-\/\/\/-

Of all the places in Mount Pillar to be. Of every floor, of every corridor, our sting is taking place **here**, in one of the filthiest places in Mount Pillar. Not filthy in the sense of dirt and grime, it's actually quite free of that. No, the filthiness comes from what exactly happens here.

Unlike most corridors in and around Mount Pillar, the walls of this corridor are not smooth. There are many small caves, rocky grounds, places that someone could go to be unseen. It makes sense that many abductions take place here, with all the places to hide. There's a reason **besides** the abductions for all the caves and compartments, though...

A lithe mandiblor wearing a red ribbon around his neck looks up as I walk by. I give him a glance, keeping up my charade while still keeping an eye on Ashley several dozen feet away.

"Are you looking for companionship?" the mandiblor asks, stroking one of his mandibles with a hand. "Fifteen ambers an hour."

**This** is why this place seems so filthy to me. Welcome to the shady part of the hive, the corridor where prostitutes wait for customers. Danians aren't particularly picky about who they have sex with, apparently.

A feel my stomach constrict as the mandiblor attempt to make himself look appealing. "You're not my type," I mutter as I quickly pick up my pace.

The mandiblor tries to follow me. "I might be your type. Are you looking for a catcher? A pitcher? Maybe an equal partner?"

"I said **no**," I growl, and the mandiblor quickly leaves.

Those red ribbons, they are the accessory of choice for prositutes in Mount Pillar. I see many of them in this corridor, many on Danians, some on Human men and women.

I try to make sure Ashley stays in my sight. She's not wearing a red ribbon as part of her disguise, thank God. No she's pretending to be a nervous window-shopper, checking out the "wares" and trying to decide what she want. The few times I can see her face, I can clearly see the strain there.

I can understand her stress. Even with an unseen guard around her, she's still waiting for someone to grab her, and in the meantime she has to feign interest in the people around her.

"Two ambers for my services," a woman's voice begs nearby. "That's all I'm asking."

I glance over. A woman dress in rags hides partly behind some rubble. Her face is sunken, her hair is dirty, and her eyes are dull. She too has a red ribbon around her neck.

"I don't need your services," I say as I open my pouch. "Still, you look like you need this." I take out a couple seven-palm coins from the bag and flip them to her.

The woman scrambles to grab the coins as I walk away. Fourteen palms. I don't know exactly how many ambers they'll be worth, but the coins themselves are gold, so the metal itself is worth something if she can sell them.

Wait, where's Ashley? Oh, there she is. My heart stops trying to explode as I force myself to walk calmly down the corridor in her direction.

True, I'm a Human walking down a corridor dangerous for Humans, but I'm not alone either. Maliph and Malvadine are standing by invisible, of course, but Sarah also has provided me a quite visible small army of mandiblor guards. After all, if a Mipedian prince, even a **Human**-Mipedian prince, is in Mount Pillar, it makes sense that he be supplied a guard.

No, I'm not the one in any real danger. That would be Ashley.

"Hey there, Your Highness," a gruff voice says. I sense a mocking tone to the voice.

I feel a chill run down my back as I force myself to casually glance over. There's a large blue Danian with two legs and four arms, maybe a warrior, leaning against the wall. He's a lot closer than I expected him to be, within grabbing distance. A second glance shows a red stripe, a ribbon, around this creature's neck as well.

The muscular Danian's mandibles click together. "You've passed up nearly every service ever since you started down this corridor. What exactly are you looking for?"

Crap, someone had been paying that close attention to me? "I... uh..."

The Danian steps forward and reaches one hand towards my chin. I step back quickly, and the hand closes down on empty air.

"You're a bit of a teaser, hm?" the Danian chuckles. "You obviously were looking for a partner like me." He leans back against the wall. "Twenty ambers gets you an hour, though I can lower it to ten if you'll let **me** be the 'male' during our time together."

I shake my head and step backwards. "No, no no no, I've got somewhere else to be."

The Danian scowls and steps forward. "What are you playing at?"

"Attend!" I say firmly, and Maliph and Malvadine appear in front of me, swords drawn.

The Danian backs away. "M-my apologies! I won't give you any trouble!"

I sigh and turn away from him. That took too much of my attention, I need to find Ashley again.

...Where is she?

I look around, my heart pounding again. I can't see her anywhere! I can see her guards, visible and looking quite beaten, lying on the ground with a curious crowd around them, but Ashley's gone missing!

I rush over to the soldiers, dropping my customer act. "What happened?!" I nearly shout as I push through the crowd. "Where'd she go?!"

Every one of the soldiers that had been guarding her is lying on the ground, some unconscious, others groaning in pain. One soldier with his arms around his stomach gasps, "Spectral... viewers... They got... the drop... on us..."

I look up and around. "Malvadine!" I say, pointing at the closest cave. "Search there! Maliph! That one!"

My two guards rush to follow my orders.

I **can't** have just let them grab her! No no **no!**

-\/\/\/-

When they had recovered, I'd ordered every soldier to search every cave, every tunnel, for any hint of a passage a Danian, or rather group of Danians, could use to slip away with a captive unseen. Plenty of such passages were found, too many to discover which one was used.

So now I have to tell Sett, tell him that Ashley disappeared right in front of me...

...Sett's eyes widen when he sees me. The news must be written all over my face. "No..." he whispers. "No, you didn't lose her..."

"I... I..." My voice keeps escaping from me.

"You're going to tell me that she's safe, Michael," Sett says, his hands clenching into fists. "You tell me she's safe, and it had **better** be true."

My heart withers inside my chest. "I'm sorry, Sett..."

The pupils of Sett's eyes turn into pinpricks, and his eyes go wider still. "Please, no... No!" Then his face twists with fury, creases running from the corners of his eyes to the end of his muzzle. "You **bastard!** You were supposed to keep an eye on her!"

I don't see him lunge. One moment I'm standing, and the next I'm on the ground. Fists pummel my chest and my face. "You!" A punch to my eye. "**F***ing!**" A hit to my jaw. "**_BASTARD!_**"

And suddenly he's off. Two soldiers are dragging him away, and another steps in front of and reels back for a punch.

"Stop," I order as I push myself to a sitting position. "Stop!"

The soldier hesitates, then steps away. I push myself to my feet. "Sett, I'm so sorry. We're going to find her, I swear."

"How?" Sett shouts, his voice a blend of pain and rage and grief. "Where was she taken? Will we recognize her when we see her? Is she still **Human**?" Sett struggles against the grip of the soldiers holding him back, then sags. "Not Ashley, not you too..."

"Too?" Sarah asks.

I'd completely forgotten about Sarah. She must have seen that whole display... "Sarah, where have you discovered slaves being sold?"

"Many places," Sarah replies. "Too many to cover all of them."

"Where most, then?" I persist. "Ashley's somewhere in Mount Pillar, and it's my fault for letting her go out there! I need to **know**!"

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe SLaVe auCTioN**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	61. THe SLaVe auCTioN

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe SLaVe auCTioN**

-\/\/\/-

We're in groups of three, covering as much ground as we can. I'm with a mandiblor and Phelphor. Phelphor actually volunteered to go with me. Why did he do that?

_{THaT iS NoT iMPoRTaNT.}_

Why am I even worrying about it? We need to find Ashley!

"Sense anything odd?" I ask the mandiblor as we walk briskly through the second floor of the market.

The mandiblor folds his arms and fiddles with the edges of his sleeves while his antennae start to vibrate. "There isn't anything out of the ordinary here."

I grit my teeth and pick up my pace. "Tell me when something abnormal comes up. Phelphor, you said you're good at noticing when people are hiding stuff. Anything here?"

{Do NoT GeT uSeD To oRDeRiNG Me aRouND, HuMaN.}

Phelphor looks around. He points and says, "Only thing I can tell is that those gemstones for sale are actually made of glass."

The merchant Phelphor's pointing at flinches and starts packing up his stand. I growl, "We're not looking for **false advertising** here, Phelphor!"

The mandiblor grabs my shoulder and pulls a little, slowing me down. "Osiris, you're drawing attention."

I have to restrain myself from shouting. "Who cares?"

"Do you want to scare off whoever is holding your servant captive?" the Danian counters.

"She's not a servant," I snap, but I do slow down.

The mandiblor bows his head a little. "My apologies, I just assumed-"

"Shh," Phelphor hisses. His eyes are closed. "Someone nearby is projecting a false persona."

"A false what?" I ask.

Phelphor's eyes remain closed. "He is deliberately acting in a manner inconsistent with his personality. Several feet to my right."

I glance over. "Several feet to your right doesn't help much... Wait."

That Danian, right there. I **recognize** him. Tall, muscular, blue exoskeleton. It's that Danian prostitute from earlier, the one who became aggressive when I refused his services. The only thing missing is the red ribbon, but of course that would be removable.

I turn away from the Danian. "Tall blue guy over there?" I point discretely.

Phelphor opens his eyes and glances over. "That's the one. He's projecting a soldier's aura, but underneath it is... Holy Cothica, I did **not** need to see that."

What did Phelphor see? And how is he seeing all this anyway?

_{THe DaNiaN iS FaR MoRe iMPoRTaNT, MiCHaeL. THe M'aRRiLLiaN iS NoT WoRTH THe TiMe To WoNDeR aBouT.}_

Gah, stop getting distracted. "Hey, um, mandiblor." It's so annoying not being allowed to ask his name. "Who is he?"

"Jaqal," the mandiblor replies. "Quite successful in his, uh, line of work-"

"I already know what he does for a living," I groan. "Just- Okay, is he seen here often?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" the mandiblor asks with an annoyed tone.

I press a finger into my right temple. "Okay, let's see, do we tail him and hope he leads us to Ashley and other captives?"

There's a faint smile on Phelphor's face.

{you WiLL THiNK Me a SaiNT aND a HeRo By THe eND oF THiS Day.}

"I say we follow him," Phelphor says. "If I was a gambling creature, I'd bet my **life** he'll lead you straight to Ashley."

"You sound sure of yourself," I mutter. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because he's definitely thinking about her right now," Phelphor explains.

Phelphor can read minds?

_{you Do NoT FiND My WoRDS SuSPiCiouS.}_

It doesn't matter. "Okay then, we follow him."

-\/\/\/-

Ten minutes is all it takes before Jaqal seems to start heading somewhere in particular. I had been keeping an eye on him while pretending to shop when he suddenly ducked behind a tapestry and vanished. Now, how to-?

_{FoLLoW HiM iN, STeaLTH WouLD Be a WaSTe oF TiMe.}_

There's no time to figure out a way to quietly follow him. I walk briskly across the corridor, dodging foot traffic, and slip behind the tapestry myself.

...Why the **hell** did I do something so stupid?

In the corridor behind the tapestry, a Danian warrior wielding a pyroblaster is staring at me. My breath catches in my throat, and I expect him to raise the battlegear and take aim.

The Danian does absolutely nothing.

I hear a flutter of cloth behind me, then Phelphor's voice. "Good, I managed to hide you in time."

"Hide me?" I ask, my knees shaking. I slowly edge to the side, but the warrior's eyes don't track me.

"Back when they were still around, M'arrillians used a kind of mind-blank to move around unseen." Phelphor steps up to the warrior and waves his hand in front of his face. "Tricks the senses into not registering their existence. He can see us, but his mind rejects us because I'm telling him we don't exist. He won't even remember us passing by."

Cloth flutters behind us again, and the mandiblor that had been with us steps into the corridor. The warrior's grip tenses on the pyroblaster.

_{He iS TRuSTWoRTHy, PaTTaLoR.}_

The warrior's eyes brighten. "So, Hawki, I guess we didn't hide as well as we thought. Still, the fact that you haven't sent soldiers storming in here must mean **something**."

The mandiblor, who I guess is Hawki, looks a little confused. "Pattalor? What are **you** doing here?"

Pattalor opens his mouth, but then his eyes slide out of focus, and his jaw goes slack. Phelphor turns to Hawki and says, "We need a cover story for you."

Hawki stumbles backwards and clutches his chest. "Where did **you** come from? Can you turn invisible like a Mipedian?"

"Roll with it," I suggest. We should avoid having to explain so much.

"Yes, I can," Phelphor nods. "I've also turned Osiris invisible, he's standing right next to me."

I have to hand it to Hawki. Most people immediately try to see the thing they were just told is invisible, but he simply nods and says, "A-all right then. Cover story?"

Phlephor glances back at Pattalor. "Obviously you know him. Now, you need to pretend you don't care about the slavery issue, that in fact you're looking to purchase one of your own."

"And send a hive call to the others," I add.

Phelphor repeats my addition. Hawki nods, and his face sets to a stern expression.

Pattalor's eyes snap back into focus. "Elco, er, uses me as a guard when business is being done."

Hawki narrows his eyes. "Why'd you never tell me? You didn't think I'd be interested in doing business with him?"

Pattalor's arms shift uneasily. "Well, you've always seemed to have all four feet firmly on Illexia's floor. You seemed so loyal to her, I thought you'd immediately turn me in."

Hawki presses a hand to his face and sighs. "I'm hurt, Patt! Last night you told me you were so lucky to have someone like me you could tell everything, but you didn't mention **this**."

"I'm sorry, Hawki," Pattalor cringes. "You can be the male tonight. For the whole week, if that's not enough."

Hawki and Pattalor are a couple? You know what, I'm not even surprised.

"We'll see," Hawki says as he walks deeper into the tunnel. Phelphor and I follow.

"I've hidden your voice from everyone but us," Phelphor says.

Hawki immediately screams, "I **trusted** him! He seemed like such an upstanding soldier, seemed so loyal to Illexia. To go against her orders like this? If I'd known, I would have never have mated with him!"

Even in a culture as alien as the Danian's, there's such a thing as feeling betrayed by your spouse. Still, isn't it a weird coincidence that I had the soldier's **lover** following me?

{iT WaS NoT a CoiNCiDeNCe, HeH. you Do NoT KNoW THaT i SpeCiFiCaLLy CHoSe HaWKi To JoiN uS.}

Who made that sound?

_{NoBoDy.}_

Must have been my imagination. We continue down the corridor.

-\/\/\/-

There's the blue Danian, standing in the crowd. There's an elevated stage with a mandiblor standing on it, and next to the mandiblor is... is a naked Human man in a cage. His hands are tied behind his back, his legs are bound into a kneeling position, and a gag covers his mouth. He's not infected. Yet.

I feel dirty just being here. That guy up there, all of this is happening against his will. He must be so terrified. Why? Why are these Danians doing this?

"Do I hear thirty ambers for this specimen?" the mandiblor calls out. "Thirty ambers? Thirty ambers to number twenty-six. Do I hear thirty-five amber? Thirty-five ambers?"

Specimen! He just called the man a **specimen**!

As Hawki tries to join the crowd, a nearby mandiblor shoves a paddle into his arms. "You're going to need one of these if you're going to buy anything."

I glance at the paddle. Number fourteen. Huh? I'm sure there's more people than that here.

Hawki also seems to have noticed. "You're giving the paddles out of order."

The mandiblor with the paddle sighs. "I get paid to hand them out, that's all. Why should I care who gets what? As long as Elco gets paddle number one. Can't let the man who **runs** this entire operation not get what he wants."

Hawki shrugs and steps into the crowd. How are we going to follow him?

Phelphor sighs. "They won't notice you bumping into them unless you make it hurt. Just be careful."

With that in mind, I slip into the crowd and follow Hawki. It feels like ants are crawling on my skin as I maneuver through the crowd, and I'm not talking about Danians.

"Forty-five ambers to number fifty-two, forty-five ambers, do I hear fifty?"

I reach Hawki at the front of the crowd and look around. I don't recognize anyone up here except that blue Danian. All four of his arms are folded over his chest, and he's tapping his paddle against his shoulder as if he was getting impatient.

"Hawki, how's that hive call?" I ask. Anything to get my mind of the bidding, the offering of money for the ownership of someone's life.

Phelphor repeats my question. Hawki answers, "Odu-Bathax and his squad are coming as fast as they can. Osiris's soldiers will be joining them."

"Sold!" shouts the mandiblor. "Number twenty-six, please step forward and claim your merchandise."

A thin four-legged Danian steps to the stand. The mandiblor holds open a bag, and the thin Danian reaches in and grabs a- oh crap. He grabs a tiny orange beetle with huge mandibles. An infecting parasite.

The thin Danian throws the parasite into the cage ,where it seems to melt into the Human's skin. The man lets out a muffled scream and collapses, his body writhing as if in pain. His skin is starting to turn shiny and hard.

I close my eyes and cover my ears, but I can't quite block out the sound of the man's screams. They go on for minutes, and suddenly it's silent.

I open my eyes. The mandiblor is opening the cage, and the man, now wearing a Danian-like body, steps out. The thin Danian steps off the stage, and the infected Human follows.

I puke in my mouth a little.

"Please don't make me have to hide your vomit too, Osiris," Phelphor begs.

I swallow and look back up at the stage.

The mandiblor speaks again. "This is our last piece for today, gentlemen. May I introduce specimen number forty?"

A cage is wheeled out. I can't see inside, it's covered by a black cloth.

The mandiblor continues, "May the final bid begin!" and he rips off the cloth.

_**ASHLEY!**_

It's Ashley! She's right there! She's still Human! True, she's naked, tied up, and obviously terrified, but she doesn't look hurt! Come **on**, Odu-Bathax, get down here!

The mandiblor states, "As you can see, it's much healthier than our usual fare. May I suggest the bid starting at fifty ambers?"

Odu-Bathax! Get your sorry thorax down here!

The blue Danian I recognized earlier waves his paddle. The mandiblor on the stage says, "Fifty ambers to number one."

...Number one?

I stare at the muscular blue Danian. In his upper right hand is a paddle with, yes, the number one on it.

Number one. Elco. The Danian behind this entire thing. The same one who didn't like it when I rejected his services.

Two seconds pass. They feel like months.

The mandiblor sighs and mutter. "We have fifty ambers, do I hear fifty-five?" His heart doesn't sound that much into it at all, like he doesn't expect anyone else to bid.

Elco is already getting up on the stage.

...Wait, that's exactly it. Nobody's going to bid. Elco, number one, wants Ashley for himself. They're not going to argue.

"Fifty ambers going once."

Elco reaches into the bag.

"Going twice."

Elco withdraws a parasite from the bag.

I shake Phelphor's shoulder. "Let Hawki see and hear me."

Phelphor nods. I say, "Hawki, bid. Now."

Hawki stares at me with wide eyes. "What?"

"Three times..." the mandiblor draws out with a roll of his eyes.

Elco turns to Ashley and prepares to throw. A look of absolute terror is frozen on her face.

I grab Hawki's hand and lift up the paddle.

The mandiblor stares at Hawki. Elco almost throws the parasite, then staggers. He turns and stares at Hawki as well.

Hawki blinks, then says, "Yes, I'm bidding. Fifty-five ambers."

Elco looks furious. He chucks the parasite back into the bag and steps off the stage.

"...Fifty-five, then," says the mandiblor. "Do I hear-"

"Sixty," growls Elco.

"Bid," I snap.

"Sixty-five," Hawki shouts.

"Seventy," Elco belts out.

"Seventy-five," Hawki counters.

Phelphor stares at me as the two Danians trade numbers the way two people might trade insults. "What are you trying to accomplish, Osiris?" Phelphor asks.

"Buying time," I mutter.

"One hundred twenty!" Elco bids.

"One hundred twenty-five!" Hawki growls. He then whispers, "You sure as hell better reimburse me."

"I will," I answer.

"One hundred thirty!"

"One hundred thirty-five!"

"One hundred fourty!"

I grab Hawki's shoulder. "Skip to two hundred."

"I don't have that much," Hawki mutters.

I slip a bracelet off my wrist and shove it in his pocket. "Now you do."

"Going once," the mandiblor on stage nervously says.

"Two hundred!" Hawki shouts.

Elco reels back as if he'd been kicked in the face. "T-two hundred fifty!"

"Three hundred!"

"Three fifty!"

"Four hundred!"

"Bulls***!" Elco snarls as he storms over. "How can a lowly mandiblor like yourself have four hundred ambers?"

Whoops. I shouldn't have had Hawki skip.

Hawki's voice completely dies as he stares up at Elco. All four of his legs are shaking.

"Do you know what happens to overbidders here?" Elco roars as he wraps two hands around Hawki's throat.

I don't even think, I just react. I pull a knife from a hidden pocket in my shendyt and thrust it at Elco's shoulder.

The blade bounces off, leaving an indentation in the Danian's natural armor.

"Oh s***," Phelphor exclaims.

Elco's head turns in my direction, and his eyes lock with mine.

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe LeaDeR oF THe SLaVeRS**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	62. THe LeaDeR oF THe SLaVeRS

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe LeaDeR oF THe SLaVeRS**

-\/\/\/-

Everyone is staring at me. I don't even need to look around to know it, I can feel their eyes on me. I must be quite a shock from them to see, considering that up until I'd given myself away I was effectively invisible to them.

The large blue Danian Elco tilts his head, and his antennae wave around a little. One of his four hands grabs me by the wrist, and another wrenches my knife from my grip.

Elco shoves Hawki at another Danian, then turns to me. Two of his hands hold my wrists, and the other two hold my shoulders.

My heart is beating so hard it hurts. My lungs heave and hyperventilate. I feel trickles of sweat run down my skin, but my body feels like ice.

Elco's mandibles click together, and he says, "Hello again, handsome."

If I'd been in a better state of mind, I would have probably been able to snap back with some witty remark. In my current state, all I can manage in return is a weak, "Hello?"

Elco tilts his head to the side again. "What is a Human like you doing in a place like this?"

I don't say anything. I need time, I need time!

I feel Elco's grip tighten, and he turns and drags me from the crowd. "I asked very nicely," he says before slamming my back against the stage. "What are you doing here?"

Ow, my back... I clench my teeth together and try my best to ignore the pain.

Elco glances up, then looks back into my eyes. "You tracked that Human here? I could tell you were following her earlier. Such a responsible prince, trying to make sure his fellow Humans are safe."

I force my face into a stern expression and firmly say, "You're aware of my station. Obviously you know what will happen if you don't get your slimy hands off me this instant."

"Ah yes," Elco drawls, "the Mipedians, both Human-Mipedian and true-Mipedian, will be quite angry with me if they find out what's happening here." He lets go of my left shoulder and- Ow! He **slapped** me! "As you can see, I'm not worried at all, Human," the Danian taunts.

My face stings, but I can live with that. I need him to waste more time so Odu-Bathax can stop all of this. "That was an interesting slap," I say, forcing my voice not to shake. "You take lessons from a wet fish?"

Elco blinks. "Was that meant as an insult?" he mutters. Then he shakes his head, and his smug expression comes back. "No matter. You see, you're not getting out of here now. We can't exactly let you go, considering what you saw."

My stomach lurches as Elco lifts me up and throws me onto the stage. I tuck my my arms and legs in so I roll, then spring to my feet. I see a blue figure lunge at me-

Stars dance in my vision. I'm on the ground, the Danian pinning me down. Elco's mass restrains my legs, while two hands spread my arms and a third presses on my chest.

"You may start the bidding over," Elco announces as his fourth hand rummages inside the nearby bag. "I've altered my decision. Prince Osiris of the Mipedians might make for a excellent servant, once the proper documents are forged, of course."

"F-fifty ambers," stammers the mandiblor. "Starting at fifty mandiblors."

The bidding starts. Elco draws his hand out of the bag.

There's another one of those parasites in Elco's grip. It's the first time I've seen one this close. Two huge eyes surrounded by smaller ones, two huge mandibles clicking away, six wriggling legs. The parasite stares at me and squirms, trying to leap from Elco's hand to my face.

"I can feel your heart, Human," Elco whispers. "I see the look on your face. You're scared, terrified."

Elco lowers the parasite, puts it closer to my face. It squirms and strains towards me. I can hear the tiniest of squeaks coming from its body. I can still hear the auction, but the words have no meaning.

Elco breathes, "You shouldn't have stuck your neck out, Human. You should have cut your losses and ran. But you stayed, and now you'll belong to me."

The parasite's close enough to poke my skin with its mandibles. My body chills as I feel the tiny pinpricks.

Elco glances up at Ashley. "When the auctioneer closes the bid on her, I'm going to infect you. This parasite will enter your body when 'sold' is said."

I tear my attention away from the parasite and glance up. I can barely see Ashley, staring at me, looking as terrified as I feel. Come **on**, Odu-Bathax! Where **are** you?!

Elco withdraws the parasite a little. "Still, it's a shame I can't have you while you're a Human. I like my meat soft, you see, but you'll cause to much trouble." He lowers his face towards mine. "Still, I might as well take this time to see what flavor those lips of yours are."

Okay, no, that's enough creepiness out of you. I even forget my fear for a moment. I inhale deeply and spit as hard as I can, catching Elco full in the face.

Elco wipes his face on his arm, then says, "Still got some fight in you, hm? Well, listen."

I can't help it, I listen. I hear the auctioneer say, "Nobody going to go for two hundred eighty-five? Two hundred eighty-five? All right, then, two hundred eighty going once!"

My breath catches in my throat. Elco laughs and starts to raise the hand with the parasite in it.

"Two hundred eighty going twice!"

The hand raises higher. The parasite squirms and clicks its mandibles at me. My heart races.

"Going three times..."

Elco raises the parasites high above his head. "You're mine."

I hear a rush of air, and the parasite suddenly explodes in Elco's hand. A rain of yellow gore falls down. Some lands on my face, some lands around me, but most splats against Elco's body.

Elco's head begins to turn. There's a red and yellow blur, and suddenly the Danian's weight is off of me. I quickly push myself to a sitting position and see-

Maliph! Maliph is wrestling Elco on the other side of the stage! I've never been so happy to see him before **ever**!

I turn towards the crowd. It's in an absolute uproar. Danian and Mipedian soldiers are pouring out of the tunnel from the outside, and many of the criminal Danians are surrendering on the spot.

...Where's Maliph's sword?

I turn back to Maliph and Elco and spot the sword a ways away, smeared with yellow parasite guts. Did Maliph throw it?

Elco flips on top of Maliph and wraps all four of his hands around his throat. He leans into Maliph's face and roars. A roar I interrupt by grabbing Maliph's sword and swinging it down on the Danian's head.

I expected it to bounce off. I thought the sword would deal a glancing blow. Ideally it would have knocked the Danian out, otherwise it would have simply distracted the Danian long enough for Maliph to gain the upper hand. That's... not what happened. I've been working with those blunted training swords for too long.

The blade cleaves through Elco's exoskeleton. It wasn't quite like slicing butter with a hot knife, there was more resistance. Still, one moment, there was Elco's head, and the next, there were two halves of Elco's head.

Elco's body slumps to the side, wrenching the sword from my grip. He hits the ground, jostling the sword free. Now joined with the yellow smear of parasite remains are gray clumps, pieces of what have to be Elco's brain.

I... just... killed him...

My logical mind tries to tell me he deserved it. My emotional mind tries to tell me to be glad that a person like him is dead.

I vomit. It tastes like acid.

-\/\/\/-

"I remember my first kill," Maliph says while he sits next to me. "I reacted much the same way."

I'm sitting on the end of the stage farthest from where Elco's corpse still lays. There's lots of activity around me, but I'm not seeing it. Five minutes. Has it really only been five minutes? It feels like an hour.

"Osiris?" Maliph asks. "Michael? Are you okay?"

"I wasn't trying to kill him," I mutter. "I should have used the flat or the pommel, not the blade."

Maliph stares at the ground with me for a moment, then gives my shoulder a shake. "Hey, you saved Ashley from getting infected. Cheer up a little."

I glance over at Ashley. She's bundled up in a blanket, shivering, though I don't think it's from the cold.

"Has Sett been told?" I ask.

"He's on his way," Maliph replies.

"Good." I look out at the crowd. Several Danians are being led out in chains. "How many arrests?"

"Around sixty." Maliph pauses for a moment. "Five were killed while resisting arrest."

"Did we lose anyone?" I ask with trepidation.

Maliph shakes his head. "Everyone's accounted for."

Suddenly my view is obscured by a huge Danian. "Osiris, man of the hour," a deep voice laughs. "Who would have thought a **Human** would be the one to crack this case open, even if he **is** a prince."

I look up. It's Odu-Bathax. How odd that the creature who killed me in two past lives is now praising me. "Hello, Odu..." I mutter.

"It's Odu-**Bathax**," the Danian corrects. "I thought you'd know that. I hear I'm quite prominent in that entertainment program back on Earth."

Probably best not to mention that he's portrayed as a bit of a villain sometimes. "I always called you Odu in my head."

Odu-Bathax shrugs and looks over at Elco's body. "A bit of a shock to learn one of the slaver leaders was Elco. I always thought his wealth came from his excellent service. I was a regular customer for a time. Excellent mouth of his."

**Thanks** for the mental image, Odu-Bathax. "Nobody ever checked where all his money came from?"

"Well, yes, we did." Odu-Bathax mutters. He scratches the back of his head. "The thing is, nothing was suspicious. I guess he over-reported the number of his clients."

"Enough about his clients and his service and all that crap!" I snap. "I don't **care** where you Danians shove your penises when you're horny, just leave me out of it!"

Odu-Bathax stares at me slack-jawed for a second. Maliph quickly says, "He's under a lot of stress from accidentally killing Elco."

"That was an **accident**?" Odu-Bathax laughs. "You sliced all the way through to his vocal cords!"

"I was trying to knock him out," I mutter.

Odu-Bathax almost doubles over with laughter. "I'd hate to see you actually try to **kill** someone then! An **accident**!"

Odu-Bathax staggers away, and soon it looks like he's retelling the story to another group of soldiers. I turn to Maliph. "If I ever get that excited about someone dying, just kill me."

"Is that an order?" Maliph says with a raised eye ridge.

I sigh. "No, it's not. Just... make sure I never get like that."

"Ashley!"

I turn to the sound of the voice. Sett dashes across the room over to his wife. "Ashley! Are you hurt? They didn't hurt you, right? I'm going to kill them if they did."

Ashley hesitantly looks over her shoulder at Elco's corpse. Sett follows her gaze and mutters, "Someone beat me to it." Then he hugs Ashley. "I was so scared... I thought I'd never see you again..."

Ashley hugs him back. "I kept praying you'd find me. I'm so sorry..."

Maliph nudges me. "Look. Look at that. Don't think about that Danian, think about that. **You** made that happen. **You** made it possible for them to see each other again."

"And you made sure I was Human enough to see it," I add. "Thanks for that."

"It's my **job**," Maliph counters. "I'm **supposed** to save your life in an overly dramatic fashion."

I stare at him. "You didn't wait until the very last moment just for fun, did you?"

Maliph laughs so hard he falls off the stage. "No, no, no! It was legitimately down to the last second!"

"Good," I mutter. "Because if you did, I'd have fired you."

Maliph picks himself off the floor. "Are you feeling better?"

"A bit," I mutter.

"Well, I have to get off my a** and get some work done." Maliph gives me a light punch to the shoulder. "Take care, Your Highness."

As I watch Maliph leave, I mentally correct everyone. It wasn't just me, Hawki help too. As well as Phelphor. Hell, I wouldn't have been able to even **find** this place without him, much less get in.

{iS THe M'aRRiLLiaN WoRTH BeiNG PaRaNoiD oVeR?}

What was that? Ah, it doesn't matter anyway. There's no **way** Phelphor's a threat to anybody.

{Ha! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! i DiD iT!}

I stand up and head for the exit to this disgusting room. I need to get out of here, get some sleep, maybe hold Isis for a while.

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe CeLeBRaToRy NiGHT**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	63. THe CeLeBRaToRy NiGHT

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe CeLeBRaToRy NiGHT**

-\/\/\/-

It's not exactly a party, but there's certainly a celebratory feeling in the air at Sarah's home. Along with my company, there are many Danians, mandiblor and otherwise, in Sarah's home. Somebody has broken open a bottle of... well, it's not exactly wine, but some of my normally composed soldiers have been reduced to uncoordinated klutzes by the stuff, so it's definitely close enough.

Sarah, who hasn't yet touched the stuff, is listing the potential repercussions of recent events. "It's unlikely that the slave trade will completely stop with this bust," she sighs, "but we've definitely dealt a blow to the practice. All we need to do for now is track down the poor people who were victims of this particular group and return them to their normal lives."

I lean back into my chair. "That's wonderful," I say, meaning every word. I'm just too worn out to show my excitement.

Isis reaches over and holds my hand. "You must be exhausted," she guesses.

"Just coming off an adrenaline high." I sit back up and give Isis's hand a little squeeze. "Thanks for your concern, though."

Sarah clears her throat. "Anyways, it won't be long until the Underworld and Overworld tribes hear about this. We may need to brace ourselves for some scrutiny."

Phelphor steps between us, somehow managing to hold four large mugs in his two hands. "They're preparing a toast," he says. "Everyone grab a mug."

"Thanks," I say as I take one and look inside. The liquid inside is colored gold and quite thick, almost like a smoothie.

Everyone has a mug now, and everyone's eyes turn to Sarah. Sarah raises her mug and loudly says, "First, to Illexia, Queen and Mother of the Hive!"

"To Illexia!" everyone shouts before taking a drink. Well, **that's** an interesting flavor. Almost like honey and alcohol mixed together.

A mandiblor raises his mug after finishing his swig. "To Lady Sarah, who takes care of all the Human stuff so Illexia doesn't go crazy trying to do it!"

There's a laugh, then a call of, "To Sarah!" Another swig. This stuff is almost sickeningly sweet.

Sarah raises her hug again. "And to Prince Osiris, who made my job just a little bit less of a headache!"

I feel my face go bright red as a call of "To Osiris!" ripples through the crowd. Then everything returns to pretty much normal.

I lean towards Sarah and ask, "What exactly is this?"

"What it tastes like, honey and alcohol." Sarah takes another swig.

"It could use a little watering down," I mutter, turning my mug upside-down to illustrate exactly how thick it is. It takes two seconds before the fluid starts to pour out, and I quickly turn my mug back around and catch the drips on its side.

Isis laughs, "Michael, you don't ever tell someone to water down their beer."

I will now call this drink "honeybeer" in my head. I don't care what it's really called.

A mandiblor approaches with a package. "A gift from our Queen, in return for the service you have done for us."

A gift? Wait, I need to reject it twice first. "It isn't necessary," I say with a wave of my hand.

The mandiblor presents it again, "She insists you take it."

I nod and say, "The thought is appreciated, but I must refuse."

The mandiblor lifts it to me a third time. "Her Majesty would feel insulted if you didn't take this gift."

"If she so insists," I say. "My thanks to her."

"Well done," Isis whispers as the mandiblor places the package in my hand.

"Weirdest tradition ever," I whisper back. I open the bundle of cloth.

It's a magenta crystal the size of a dinner plate, framed with gold. I recognize what it is after a moment. It looks a lot like a larger version of one of those "radio crystals" I've seen Overworlders use.

The mandiblor bows and says, "This crystal is linked with one in the possession of our Queen. If the need is great, you may speak directly with her through it."

I blink. This is... big. Very big. "Wow!" I can't even speak properly. A tribe leader giving another tribe leader, which I technically am, a direct speaking line is a **very** big deal. "This is... This is very generous of Her Majesty! Many thanks!"

"I will send your words to her," the mandiblor bows again.

As the mandiblor leaves, I pick up my mug again. Bottoms up, I guess, everything's already crazy as heck.

-\/\/\/-

Heh heh, did I really think this wasn't a party earlier? Well, several Danians have brought out drums and other instruments. I think it qualifies as a party now.

"Why aren't you having any?" I ask Maliph, who so far has refused every mug of honeybeer offered to him.

"You know what's in that stuff?" Maliph asks.

Well, that's a bizarre question. "Honey and alcohol, right?"

Maliph gives me a steady glare. "Humans have this insect called a bee, right? Well, it's not that kind of honey."

I stop raising my mug to my lips and slowly lower it. "...What kind is it?"

Maliph leans forward and speaks as if he was giving a lecture to a class. "Danians have a second stomach they call a crop. To make honey, they-"

I stand up and approach a dancing Danian warrior. "Here, have the rest of this," I offer. "I just learned how it's made and I've lost my appetite."

The Danian laughs and grabs the mug from my hand. "Your loss!" he practically shouts before tipping in over his head and letting it drain into his mouth. He sets the empty mug down on a table and continues dancing. It's like a war dance or something like that, with lots of stomping and shouting. Every once in a while he beats his chest with all four fists before posing.

I sit back down next to Maliph, who asks, "How much did you already drink?"

"Four and a half mugs," I mutter. "I'm surprised I don't feel like vomiting."

A few minutes pass, during which I listen to the beat of the music and watch the Danians dance. After a while, though, the music changes, the drums being replaced with flutes. I look around, and I see that several Mipedian soldiers have brought out instruments.

I feel something touch my hand, and I turn to see Isis. "Shall we dance?" she asks. Her face looks quite relaxed, and there's a silly smile on her face.

"Are you sober enough to stay on your feet?" I joke as I stand up.

"I only had **two** mugs, sir," Isis grins. I pulls me to the center of the room and takes a hold of my hands. "I should be asking **you** how sober you are."

There's a rising trill of notes, and I take my first step to the music as it reaches its peak. "Sober enough to dance and drunk enough not to care who's watching," I tease.

Isis follows my steps as we twirl around in the middle of the room. "Watching? Watching us dance? You've never had a problem before."

"Oh, I care," I breathe as I lower Isis slowly to the ground in time with a dive in the music. I press my hand into the small of her back, pressing her hips against mine. "I usually just ignore my cares when we dance."

Isis giggles as I lift her back to a standing position. "Ah, I see..." We do another turn around each other, then Isis lets go of my hands and wraps her arms around my waist. "Something tells me you're looking forward to going to bed later."

I place my hands on her shoulders, and we glide sideways while the music trills. "Only if you're ready for some fun tonight," I grin.

Isis laughs, then presses her lips against mine. We slowly turn in place while we kiss, my hands traveling up to the back of Isis's head and pressing our mouths tighter against each other. Eventually we have to breathe, though, but by the time we decide to my head feels light.

Isis rests her chin on my shoulder and hugs my chest. "...I want to start trying for our second child tonight."

Well, there's a surprise. "I thought you didn't want anyone currently with us to be the father."

Isis takes the lead with our dancing, leading us away from the center of the room. "Recent events have changed my mind."

I can see where this is going. "So who's the father going to be?"

Isis glances to the side and times her response perfectly. "Oh, you know, I was just thinking that Maliph could join us in bed tonight."

Maliph **had** been taking a slow drink of pure water. The spray of liquid from his reaction was quite impressive. "E-excuse me?" he stammers.

"You **did** save Osiris from being infected," Isis notes. "If it weren't for you, we'd be having to have that reversed tonight instead."

"Plus the idea of getting infected by a parasite is terrifying," I mutter.

Isis and I wait while Maliph's brain puts itself back together. Finally, he says, "Is... Is that even **allowed**?"

"Is that a yes or a no?" I ask. "Quick, before the weirdness of sharing Isis makes me change my mind." Seriously, it might be normal for Mipedians, but I'm still a little uptight about the whole thing.

Maliph stands. "Right, yes, sorry for making you wait." He's stumbling over his words. "I'd be honored to assist you."

-\/\/\/-

This is incredibly bizarre. Arousing, but bizarre. Isis is showering me with affection and making sure I'm **well** taken care off, all while completely ignoring the Mipedian that's actually having sex with her. It's... disconcerting is the word I think I'm looking for... to see the much larger Maliph breeding with my wife.

...I feel like a participant in a very poorly written erotic film. Yes, my participating with the attempt at conception **was** my idea. I obviously hadn't thought it out very well.

I hear the bedroom door open, and my heart skips a beat. "Occupied!" I shout.

Someone walks in anyway. Two people actually, Sarah and Phelphor. The M'arrillian is talking, saying, "...and I've been ** quite** interested in seeing the Doors of the Deepmines."

"We can discuss that in the morning," Sarah says. She places her hands on Phelphor's chest and shoves him against the wall. Sarah grins and strokes her hands across Phelphor's body as she says, "Right now, you have maybe two thousand solans with no companionship to make up for."

Phelphor's eyes close halfway, and his hands clench into fists. "Ah... I like that..."

"You mind?" I say loudly. "We're kind of in the middle of something here." It's kind of difficult to speak now, Isis is really getting into what she's doing for me. Those teeth of her still make me nervous, though. Wait, did she and Maliph really not hear two people come in?

Sarah seems to completely ignore me, as one of her hands fiddles with the clasp of Phelphor's belt. It clicks open, and the M'arrillian's kilt slides to the floor, revealing all.

Oh God, I didn't need to see that much of Phelphor right now. "Seriously!" I call out. "Find another room or something!"

Phelphor's eyes slide over to meet mine as Sarah kneels down in front of him. "I needed to speak privately with you, actually."

I look in turn at Isis, Maliph, and Sarah. "This is probably the furthest thing from private **ever**," I say humorlessly.

"They can't hear us," Phelphor sighs. Then his breath catches in his throat as Sarah starts her mouth on him. "Holy Cothica..."

"Hurry up so you can do that mind-blank thing on me if the two of you are going to stay," I mutter. "What do you need to talk to me about?" Good **heck**, Phelphor, why hold a conversation at a time like this?

{you HaVe a DiSLiKe FoR BeiNG oBSeRVeD WhiLe HaViNG SeXuaL iNTeRCouRSe. you SHouLD Be Too CoNCeRNeD aBouT My BeiNG HeRe To aRGue WiTH Me.}

Phelphor's chest heaves, and the muscles of his stomach tightens. "Dear Gods it's been too long..." He grits his teeth and groans loudly, then catches his breath and says, "A-anyway, Osiris, I was wondering if I could convince you to see the Doors of the Deepmines with me-"

"Hell no!" I interrupt. "We're heading home in the morning!" You are being **seriously creepy** right now!

{i **THouGHT** you WouLD Say No. No MaTTer. _THe DeePMiNeS WiLL Be iNCReDiBLy iNTeReSTiNG To See.}_

I continue, "As fascinating as they probably are, we've been away from Al Mipedim for too long."

{you... WHaT? a_L MiPeDiM WiLL Do FiNe WiTHouT you FoR a WhiLe LoNGeR.}_

I set my jaw and turn away from Phelphor. "Now if you'll **excuse** us, we were here first."

"This is the only room with double beds," Phelphor says. He suddenly shudders and holds the top of Sarah's head. "Ah! Right there, yes..." His hips thrust forward a little, and he moans loudly.

{aND iF you THiNK i Will LeT you HaVe youR aSSuMeD PRiVaCy, GueSS aGaiN.}

I can still see Phelphor and Sarah. I guess he's making me watch, none of that mind-blanking I was hoping for.

Isis pauses, noting my waning arousal with concern. "Are you-?" She gasps as Maliph thrusts, then starts over, "A-are you not enjoying this?"

"You're doing good," I mutter, "It's just a little distracting with Maliph right there."

Phelphor suddenly says, "Mine's bigger, by the way."

"Screw you," I reply. Ack! Did Isis hear that? No, she didn't. Whew.

Phelphor grins. "Sarah's already got that covered."

-\/\/\/

"Aren't we going to wait and say goodbye to them?" Isis asks. It's morning, and I had everyone up early to pack up and leave.

"Nope," I answer. "I want this place behind me as quickly as possible."

"What **happened**?" Isis persists. "You were behaving very oddly last night."

"Don't worry about it," I say. "We'll try again." And next time we won't have a freaking **audience**.

-\/\/\/-

**uP NeXT: ****THe aRRiVaL HoMe**

-\/\/\/-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	64. THe aRRiVaL HoMe

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-\/\/\/-

******THe aRRiVaL HoMe**

-\/\/\/-

We're almost home. How many days has it been? It **feels** like forever. The city Al Mipedim grows larger and larger as we approach. I can't wait until we make it.

We're now a little ways away from the city, and I hear the most wonderful sound a parent can hear. "Mommy! Daddy!" It's the sound of our little girl's voice as she runs up to greet us from the front gates.

"Hera!" I cry out with a broad smile on my face.

I can't exactly hop off the kozorr I'm riding, being the one guiding it, but Isis has no such restrictions. She slides off the side of our mount and rushes to our daughter with open arms. She scoops Hera up and hugs her tighter. "I missed you, Hera," she says, sounding like she's about to break out in tears.

Hera wraps her arms around Isis's neck. "Don't cry, Mommy."

I steer the kozorr closer and give the top of Hera's head a rub as I pass. "You didn't give Joalle any grief while we were gone, right?"

Hera looks up at me from her mother's arms and grins. "I've been a **good** little Mipedian!"

I reach out and poke her nose just before the kozorr takes me too far away. "I'll be seeing you soon, munchkin."

"Bye Daddy," Hera waves. Then she wraps her arms around Isis again.

I turn my body forward again and search the surrounding area. There's Tiaane, laughing softly at the sight. "Tiaane," I call as I approach. "How goes Hera's lessons?"

"About as well as you can expect from a ten-solan-old child," Tiaane sighs as he follows alongside me.

I chuckle to myself. "Naps every ten minutes?"

"She spends more time asleep than awake!" Tiaane says exasperatedly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Well, you probably know more than me how to solve that," I say. I catch sight of a large yellow Mipedian approaching. "Oh, **joy**..."

Prince Mudeenu marches over. "You missed over two weeks of training, **Michael**," he growls.

"I had business to attend to in Underworld City," I reply, "and then a diplomatic opportunity arose at Mount Pillar."

"**What** business in Underworld City?" Mudeenu pries. "I've spoken with Iflar, and he can't seem to remember!"

"Him too?" I ask.

"What the hell is **that** supposed to mean?" Mudeenu snaps, baring his teeth.

"**Everyone** seems to have forgotten what needed attention at Underworld City." Probably best not to complicate things with mentioning Phelphor.

Mudeenu opens his mouth to speak, but another voice interrupts him. "Osiris! I'm so glad that you're back!"

I look up. "It's a pleasure to be back, Iflar." We've made it to the stables, so I pat my kozorr's neck and say "Hee" to make it stop.

Iflar dumps a stack of paper into my arms after I slide off my mount's back. "I have come to the conclusion that you Humans are all insane," he mutters.

I stare at the stack in my arms. "What's this?"

"**Your** responsibility now," Iflar says as he walks out of the stable. "I suggest you hire an assistant."

I sigh and look at the first page. How quickly everything returns to normal.

-\/\/\/-

Home sweet home. We've been back a month. I haven't heard anything from the other tribes, which I guess is good.

I'm sixty solans old today. There's not going to be a celebration. At least, not for my Birthday.

"Michael!" Isis says with a wide smile. She's holding a calender, and she's practically shaking with excitement. "Michael, look at this!"

I look up from my small pile of business to attend to. "What is it?"

Isis laughs, "I'm a week late!"

Late? For what? Hold on... "You're pregnant?"

Isis nods vigorously. "I've been keeping track of my cycle-"

The calender goes flying as I embrace Isis. "This is great!" I cheer, lifting her up and turning on the spot.

"Well, **you're** excited," Isis chuckles.

"Just making up for my idiocy last time," I say as I set her down. "Maliph might be disappointed, though," I joke.

"He'll have to find his own sweetheart then," Isis responds before a knock on the door distracts her. "Who is it?"

"Little princess!" Hera's voice says from the other side. "I need paper."

I open the door and crouch down. "Guess what, Hera?"

Hera blinks and tilts her head. "Um... I dunno."

I poke her nose. "You're going to be a big sister!"

"Um, okay," she shrugs. "Can I have some paper? Tiaane ran out."

"Well, don't get **too** excited," I mutter, feeling a little deflated. "Check my left desk drawer, I keep extra paper in there."

Hera skips to my desk and climbs on the chair. I give Isis a look and say, "You'd think she'd be a little more excited."

Isis sighs and presses her forehead with a finger. "At least she didn't act like Iflar when he found out I was on the way."

"What did he do?" I ask.

"Father says he cried for an hour," Isis snorts. "He thought he was being replaced."

"Daddy, these all have stuff on them already," Hera says as she waves a letter around.

I take the letter from her hand and direct her to the correct drawer. "That was the one on the right, sweetie. **This** is the left one."

"Thank you!" Hera grabs a few pages and climbs off the chair. "Daddy, what's a 'fell for'?"

"Hm?" I didn't tell her about Phelphor.

"On that paper," Hera says, pointing at the letter I'd taken from her. "It says 'fell for' on it twice, but it's drawn really weird."

"You mean written, not drawn," I correct absentmindedly as I take a look. This is the letter Lilth had sent me. It's what made me decide to go to Underworld City in the first place. Fell for? Why does that-?

-[]-[]-[]-

"**_NO!_**"

Hera jumps a little, dropping her paper, and she covers her ears and begins to sob. Isis stares at me in alarm as she rushes over to comfort Hera. "What? What happened?"

My hands tremble. My heart races. My lungs heave. My vision blurs except for those words.

"Michael, you're pale!" Isis sounds scared. "What's going on?"

"I remember everything," I whisper.

"Hera, go down to Tiaane," Isis says as she picks up the fallen paper.

Hera rushes out of room, still crying. Isis looks like she doesn't know whether to be frightened or furious. "What's **wrong** with you?"

I show Isis the letter. "Why did we go to Underworld City?" I can barely speak loud enough for her to hear me.

Isis's eyes move back and forth as she reads. "Why do the words 'fell for' have that long line crossing through-?" Her pupils suddenly turn into pinpricks. "Oh great Ancient Ones..."

I let the letter fall out of my hands and watch it flutter to the floor. We were trying to **stop** him... The whole reason we went was to make sure he never escaped... And then we just... forgot... and helped him get out of the ice...

"Illexia's gift," I ask. "Where is it?"

Isis already has it. She places it on my desk and stands next to me.

"Contact Illexia," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady.

The crystal circle glows a little, and suddenly a blurry Danian face appears in it. "Prince Osiris," says a deep female voice. "And Princess Isis. What do I owe the honor of-?"

I bow, "My deepest apologies, Your Majesty, but I must interrupt you. Do you know the whereabouts of the creature Phelphor?"

"I'm afraid not," says Illexia, sounding annoyed at my rudeness. "Sarah would know."

"I need to speak with her immediately," I say, my heart pounding.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Horrible News**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	65. The Horrible News

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

******The Horrible News**

-[]-[]-[]-

The crystal has been blank for a while. Isis and I are sitting in front of it, each passing second putting us more and more on edge. Phelphor could have done any **number** of things during the past month. Did he already open the Doors? We'd know by now if he had, right?

"We need to make Sarah remember on her own," I mutter. "I don't think she'll believe us otherwise."

Isis nods silently.

The crystal's glow flickers, and suddenly Sarah's face appears in it. "Yes, hello? Oh! Isis and Osiris! Hello!"

I wonder how fake my smile looks. "Hi Sarah... Is-is Phelphor around?"

Sarah shakes her head. "He's escorting the relieving guard to the Doors of the Deepmines. Did you want to talk to him too?"

I feel my chest tighten. "How long ago did he leave?"

"Yesterday morning," Sarah says brightly, as if she **wasn't** delivering the worst possible news to us. "He's been incredibly helpful with cleaning up after the mess Elco created, taking a lot of the workload off my shoulders." She blushes and mutters, "And a thousand years worth of blue balls makes him quite... **enthusiastic** in bed..."

I grit my teeth. "Sarah, I hate to be the one to-"

Sarah covers her eyes with one hand. "I can't believe I said that out loud."

"Sarah," Isis says, "we need to-"

"But, this is the longest relationship I've ever had!" Sarah says with a faraway look in her eyes. "At first, yeah, I just liked his body, but I've been helping him deal with being the last of his kind, and..."

The poor woman is just going on and on about Phelphor, it's like she's obsessed with him. This is going to hurt her so bad.

"Sarah!" I practically shout.

Sarah covers her mouth. "Was I babbling?"

I take a deep breath. "Do you know why all four tribes have a guard at the Doors of the Deepmines?"

Sarah shrugs. "How should **I** know?"

I'm so, **so** sorry, Sarah. "Well, tell me what the central conflict in the second season of Chaotic was."

"That's easy," Sarah says, "it was..." She chokes mid-sentence. "I-it was..."

Isis covers her mouth and looks away. I don't blame her. The look of shock and horror slowly spreading across Sarah's face is unbearable. She seems to be staring at the wall, her eyes going wide. Her hands slowly rise and cover her mouth. "No," she whispers, shaking her head. "No, that's not... How did I... How did I forget?"

"I'm sorry..." I mutter.

"I felt **sorry** for him!" Sarah cries out, her hands pulling at her hair. "I was **comforting** him about losing everything! But he **didn't**, did he?! He was just waiting for the perfect time to open the Doors!" Then she suddenly looks sick, and she covers her mouth and heaves. "I-I had sex with him! I swallowed his-!"

Sarah's face disappears from the crystal, and I hear her vomiting, retching and liquid splashing hard on the ground. "Sarah?" I call out. "You need to tell me where Phelphor should be. I know this is very hard, but-"

Sarah's face reappears in the crystal. There's fire in her eyes. "He's **mine**, you understand? I want to carve his heart out myself!"

"Not if I get to him first," I say.

"Did you not hear me?" Sarah fumes. "**I'm** going to have the pleasure of dragging his death out. I think I'll start with castration..."

"I did hear you." I stand up and press my palms on the table. "But this isn't just about you. We're talking about the entire M'arrillian tribe being behind the Doors, and Phelphor is on his way to set them free."

Sarah's expression hardens a little. "You don't understand-!"

I slam the table with my fists. "This isn't just your fight!" I shout.

The crystal wobbles from the force of my blow to the table, but it stays upright. I seem to have startled Sarah into silence.

I sit back down. "I know you feel wronged, but there's too much at stake here. If he was a common criminal who fled to Al Mipedim, I would have gladly let you hunt him down yourself, but this is **Phelphor**, and he's going to open the Doors if he's not dealt with as quickly as possible."

Sarah seems to be staring at the floor. "...Jade Pillar. If they're following the planned route, they'll be camping at Jade Pillar until next morning." She turns and calls out to someone out of view, "I need ten soldiers ready to head to the Doors with me immediately!"

The crystal's glow dies. I stand up. "They won't be able to catch up with them in time. Isis, tell your father what's going on. I'm going to gather a troop of my own and have a muge send us directly to Phelphor."

Isis stands up and grabs my shoulders. "I'm coming with-"

"**No**," I cut her off, putting a finger to her lips. "No, you can't come with me. Phelphor's too dangerous. You're going to stay here and take care of Hera." I lower my hand to her stomach. "Hera and our little one on the way."

Isis rests her forehead against my shoulder. "...You're right..." She wraps her arms around me. "Why do **you** have to go?"

"I'm not going to leave it up to chance," I say. "I won't believe the danger has passed until I watch Phelphor die... or kill him myself..."

"Please be safe," Isis whimpers.

I pat Isis's back. "I will."

-[]-[]-[]-

"You're **not** bringing **my** soldiers to the Doors of the Deepmines!" Mudeenu roars. "First off, the Doors are neutral territory, and secondly, I did say **my** soldiers!"

I walk right past Mudeenu into the arsenal and start untying my robe. "I'm not trying to **take** the Doors, I'm trying to **defend** them. Besides, we're going to Jade Pillar, not the Doors. Zaka, my armor."

The Mipedian Zaka nods and heads for the appropriate part of the arsenal. Mudeenu snarls, "What deluded logic tells you the Doors are in danger?"

"Phelphor's headed there right now," I retort while I slide my robe off and start undoing my sandals. "He plans on opening them."

Mudeenu laughs. "This Phelphor is either huge, in which case he won't fit through the caves to the Doors anyways, or incredibly dim-witted. Nobody can open the Doors!"

I kick my sandals away just as Zaka brings my armor. "He can," I say. "He did it in the show."

"Again with this show!" Mudeenu cries out. "You speak of it as if it tells the future! Has it occurred to you that in your world it was a work of fiction?"

"It had," I reply as Zaka begins the difficult process of putting my armor on correctly. Field-plate armor, similar to full-plate but more flexible. "However, if the show is correct on this note, like **everything else before**, then we need to treat Phelphor's attempt to go there as if it was a Perim-threatening emergency. Because it **is**."

"You're not taking my soldiers!" Mudeenu repeats.

I glare at Mudeenu with all the fire I can muster. "They are the Mipedian military. Not **your** soldiers, **everyone's** soldiers, and right now I need them to save Perim."

Malvadine pokes his head into the arsenal. "Sobtjek is ready with the mugic, Prince Osiris."

"Is everyone equipped?" I ask. Zaka taps my foot, and I lift it so he can strap my greaves on.

Malvadine nods. "We're only waiting for you."

I lift my other foot. "Maps? Provisions?"

"Everything," Malvadine replies before withdrawing.

Mudeenu roars, "Running off again like a month ago! Have you even consulted with my father?!"

"Isis should be there right now," I snap. I spread my arms so Zaka can buckle my cuirass to my torso.

"And yet you prepare without waiting for his approval!" Mudeenu accuses. "I should arrest you for insubordination right now!"

My armor is on. Zaka hands me my helmet, and I slide it over my head as I walk past Mudeenu. "Try it," I growl. "When all of Perim is flooded, the remnants of the once great tribes of Perim, struggling to survive against the M'arrillians, will sing songs of lament over how everything could have been avoided if the great Prince Mudeenu had just shut up and listened for once." I grab a long package containing my battlegear as I leave.

"You dare-!" Mudeenu roars before I slam the door behind me.

Sobtjek, Malvadine, and everyone else is here waiting for me, standing in a circle. "Let's get started," I say as I grab the last remaining bag and take my place the circle, "before Mudeenu blows a fuse."

Nobody asks what a fuse is. Instead, Sobtjek holds up a mugic and says, "Remember, everyone needs to enter the circle at the same time. I do not have another of this mugic one lying around."

"Understood," we all say.

Sobtjek holds up the mugic, which floats into the air. The Mipedian muge shivers and sighs as a yellow ghostly image rises from his body and spirals around the stone-like ring. "Song of Translocation!" Sobtjek announces. "Craft us a path to Jade Pillar!"

Seven notes resound through the air, twanging as if played on a harpsichord. On the last note, what looks like a bolt of lightning hits the ground in the center of our circle. Instead of immediately vanishing, it lingers, and a circle of light expands from where it struck the ground.

"On three," I say. "One..."

The door behind me slams open. "Oh no you don't, **Michael**."

I turn around to see Mudeenu storm from the arsenal at me. "What are-?"

Mudeenu points at me as he marches forward. "You aren't going **anywhere** until we've both spoken to the king, and I'm going to throw your a** in **prison** if it turns out you didn't bother asking-" At that moment he presses his finger sharply into my chest, clanging loudly against my armor.

My center of balance is thrown off, and I take a step backwards in reaction. My stomach flies up to my throat as I feel myself suddenly drop. It feels like I'm tumbling backwards down a pit, with yellow bolts of lightning flying by me through a pitch-black sky. My body feels as if it's on fire, burning heat washing across my skin.

Two seconds later, my feet hit solid ground. I see an enormous green pillar in front of me, covered in abandoned scaffolding. What just happened?

It hits me. I just got sent to Jade Pillar. Completely alone.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Path to Oblivion**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	66. The Path to Oblivion

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

******The Path to Oblivion**

-[]-[]-[]-

Crap, **crap**, _**CRAP!**_ Damn it, Mudeenu! What the hell did you do that for?! Why can't you just believe me when I tell you something?! I get that you hate me, the repeated beatings during training prove that, but seriously, what the **hell** is **wrong** with you acting like that around an active mugic!

No, stop that Michael. It's not going to help you. You could be within a hundred feet of Phelphor. Focus on that, focus on saving Perim.

Ugh, I need to do inventory. I slide my provisions pack and weapons pack off my shoulders and set them on the ground.

Provision pack opens first, let's see what I have. Trail rations, ten days worth. I'll need to make sure I don't eat more than one a day. Canteens with- ugh, wine, not water. I'll need to find some clean water soon. Maps of the Underworld, yes, maps are good, I can definitely use maps. Mugics, useless to me, but they might be good bartering material. A bedroll, a flint and steel, a few torches.

Weapons pack now. My longsword, a parrying dagger, a cyclance, and an aqua shield, along with maintenance tools for each.

I pick up the cyclance and arm it. There's the hum of energy inside. Good, that works, turn that off and check the aqua shield. A field of fluid energy surrounds the buckler-sized shield as I activate it. Awesome, that works too.

I stand up and check what's on my person. Full helm on my head, check. Cuirass, consisting of breastplate, armored sleeves and gloves, check. Greaves, codpiece and boots, check. And then there are the decorative pieces, the cape and the loincloth.

I strap my longsword's scabbard to my waist, sword hanging from my left hip. Parrying dagger gets strapped to my left boot, aqua shield to my left forearm, cyclance's strap loops around my chest and hangs from my back.

I check my reflection in a wall of jade to see if anything is out of place. Ugh, I look like some kind of evil overlord. Black armor with yellow trim, gold-colored cape and a similarly colored loincloth, both with a black symbol of the Mipedian tribe. The metal of the cuirass is shaped to evoke the image of a muscular man's torso, and there are spikes on the back and the shoulders, as well as two curved horns on my helmet.

I always felt a little unnerved by this armor, with all the dark imagery, but it **was** designed to intimidate enemies, so I guess it's just a feature.

I turn away from the jade wall. Somewhere here, a M'arrillian has an appointment with the business end of my sword.

-[]-[]-[]-

I find the remains of a camp a few minutes later. Remains here doesn't mean a nicely cleaned up campsite with a pile of ash where the firepit was. No, it means the place is a wreck. There's a tent lying crumbled on the ground, a still smoldering campfire, and cooking tools strewn around haphazardly.

Arg! Phelphor's already left! I kick a metal pot in frustrations, and it bounces away loudly.

Ugh, well, I can at least scavenge the campsite. There's bound to be a canteen of something around here-

There's a whimpering noise. It's coming from the crumbled tent. The tent's fabric rises and falls slightly.

I slowly slide my parrying dagger from its sheath on my boot and transfer it to my right hand. Better safe than sorry, in case this is an ambush. I reach my left hand down to the tent fabric, take a grip, then pull it off.

...There's a small Danian maniblor lying on the ground, clutching his stomach. The ground around him is stained with blood. His chest shudders as he breathes, and each breath releases another whimper from his mouth. His eyes are wide, and they turn to stare at me. The Danian's breath catches in his throat, and his body shakes. His antennae twitch sporadically.

I set my dagger aside, then take off my helmet. No need to scare this guy any further. "What happened?" I ask. It would be stupid to ask if he was all right.

The Danian's mandibles twitch and tremble, and he answers in a high voice, "Ph-Phelphor... h-he..."

"No, stop talking," I say. "Let me see your injury." Maybe I can use my cape to bind the wound.

The Danian squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath. He slowly takes his hands away from his stomach-

The exoskeleton falls open, revealing the interior of the Danian's stomach cavity. It's... It's an absolute wreck... The two stomachs are slit open, the liver is chopped into pieces, blood vessels are sliced into ribbons. It looks like someone- **Phelphor**, that is, took a blender to this Danian's gut.

I-I can't fix this... There's too much damage. Even if I could cast a Minor Florish on him, there's too much damage here for mugic to be able to make a difference. The mandiblor's own stomach acids have dissolved so much tissue, I can't even be sure there weren't more organs in here before now.

The Danian's chest heaves. "A-am I... gonna die...?"

I can't give him false hope, I just can't. "Yes..." I whisper. I can feel my chest freezing up inside, it's so awful.

The Dania's eyes well up. "I-I don't want to die!" he cries out weakly as tears begin to leak down the sides of his face.

I slide myself over to the Danian's head. "I'm sorry," I say softly. "I'm so sorry..."

The Danian's eyes lock on my face again. "I-I know you... You're Osiris... the prince from Al.. from Al Mipedim..."

I nod.

The Danian weakly lifts his arms and lays his palm on his chest. "I-I am Piabo..."

"Hello, Piabo." It's the only thing I can say.

Piabo closes his eyes and gasps for breath. "I-it was supposed to... to be my first assignment... spend a solan g-guarding the Doors..."

"Your first assignment?" I ask. "How old are you?"

"T-twenty-six," Piabo says. "T-today is the f-first day of my... my twenty-sixth solan..."

Twenty-six. Barely thirteen years old. "You're so young," I say. "Why send you out so young?"

Piabo laughs weakly. "H-humans always ask that... I'm a m-mandiblor... F-from b-birth to death we serve..." He expression wilts into fear. "B-but I don't wanna die..."

"Nobody ever does," I mutter.

The young Danian looks at me with pleading eyes. "H-hold me..."

I carefully reach down and lift Piabo's upper body, then rest his back on my legs and hold his head in my arm. Piabo's breath shakes, and his hand reaches up and clutches mine.

"D-do you wonder what it's like to die?" Piabo asks.

My lungs seize up. I can't answer.

Piabo looks up at me. "...Did... Did **you** die once?"

I slowly nod.

Piabo's eyes widen. "Wh-what does dying feel like?"

I take a deep breath and give Piabo's hand a squeeze. "The pain goes away slowly," I say. "You can feel it, but it just doesn't matter anymore, it's just there the same way you feel the clothes on your body or your feet on the ground." My other hand wipes tears from my eyes. "Your mind becomes very clear for a while, everything in sharp focus, and then everything starts to go... soft. The edges starts to blur together in your vision, sounds face, and soon you feel like you're floating." I take a shaky breath. "Thinking becomes hard, and eventually you just want to relax. You let go of everything, and the world just drifts away..." I choke up, I can't say anything more.

Piabo's eyes are welling up again. "It sounds... very calm..." he gasps.

I can't just let him suffer. "Do... do you want me to help you die?" I ask, my chest seizing up as I say the words.

"No..." Piabo whispers. "No... just let me go quietly..."

Every second I stay is a second I lose trying to find Phelphor... but I can't let him die alone. My throat burns, my chest aches. Small wet circles appear on my armor as tears drip down my face.

Piabo's eyes widen, and his pupils turn into pinpricks. He hands grips mine with sudden strength. "He's going to open the Doors." His voice is suddenly strong as well.

"I'm going to stop him," I say quietly.

Piabo's eyes focus on mine. "Mowercycle. Inside the wrecked shack. Saw it while collecting wood for the fire."

I look around. There's the shack he's talking about.

Piabo's grip on my hand slackens, and his arm weakly falls onto his chest. "Stop him..." the young mandiblor whispers.

"I will," I promise.

The Danian's jaw trembles, and he stares straight up. "I don't wanna die... I don't wanna... I... I..."

Piabo's head feels heavier on my arm, his body heavier on my lap. His shoulders slowly droops down, and his chest slowly falls. I place a hand on his chest. His heart feels weak, the beats slowing and fading.

"Phelphor will pay," I whisper.

Piabo's eyes look at my face again. His pupils slowly widen. He whispers back, "Thank you... Osiris..."

"My real name, the one I was born with, is Michael," I say.

Piabo blinks very, **very** slowly. "Well... then thank... thank you... Michael..." He takes a shallow, shaky breath. "...Goodbye..."

Piabo dies in my arms. I hug his body and cry.

-[]-[]-[]-

There's nowhere I can feasibly bury him. Instead I lay him down and close his eyes. I remove my cape and tie it around his wound, then cross his arms over his chest. I remove my bedroll from my pack and lay the blanket on top of him and put the pillow below his head. There... now he could be sleeping.

Wait... He needs one more thing... I have a few coins. They're not ambers, but it's the best I can do. I open Piabo's mouth, place a coin on his tongue, and close it again.

"For paying the gatekeeper to heaven," I mutter as I stand, "though someone like you shouldn't have to pay to get in..."

I find the mowercycle Piabo told me about. It's in good condition. I clear away the wreckage of the shack it's in, then climb inside. I start the engine.

"Phelphor," I growl, "prepare to die." I turn the accelerator.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Duel at the Doors**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	67. The Duel at the Doors

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

******The Duel at the Doors**

-[]-[]-[]-

The Doors of the Deepmines. On foot, three days away from Mount Pillar, four days from Underworld City, ten days from Al Mipedim, and fifteen days from Kiru City. The Doors are deep enough beneath the ground that they're actually below sea level, and the only reason they aren't flooded is that the convoluted tunnels of the caves never actually go anywhere near the ocean.

Those same tunnels are now the victim of the blades of the mowercycle I ride. The vehicle is as much a weapon as it is a method of transport, with a small cockpit surrounded by a single large wheel, a wheel completely covered with large blades.

I reach a frozen portion of the Underworld, and those blades compensate for the reduced traction by shredding the ice, propelling the battlegear vehicle forward. The cold air bites at my eyes, the small holes in my helmet letting the wind in. Everywhere on my body where a joint or a gap is in the armor feels the sharp chill, but everywhere else feels the heat of my body reflected back at it.

It's an interesting question, actually. What am I feeling right now? Am I like the heat, in a hot rage? Or am I like the wind, in a cold fury? On the one hand, I'm envisioning the many ways a certain M'arrillian could suffer at my hand, while on the other, I'm seeking to end his threat to Perim as quickly and efficiently as possible.

It doesn't matter. No matter my anger, Phelphor must die.

-[]-[]-[]-

I see them. The massive Doors. They're not quite flush with a wall of the cave, instead lying at an angle, so that if they ever did open they would swing into the air, much like a hatch into a basement. The Doors are covered with geometric designs, including a pair of glowing green circles near the top, and the symbols of the four tribes of Perim reside on its face. On the left Door, the symbol of the Overworld, and below that the symbol of the Danians. On the right Door, the symbol of the Underworld, and below that the symbol of the Mipedians.

The cave is supported by huge pillars, smooth surfaced and carved with flowing lines in places. The floor on the cave is flat and highly polished, almost like it's covered with enormous square tiles. The Doors around surrounded by statues of a member of each of the four tribes, oriented in the same order as the symbols on the Doors, the top two clutching the Doors and the bottom two standing with palm outstretched as if to say "Stop."

In front of the Doors are four lights: blue, orange, red, and yellow. The glow of the four "keys" to the Doors, each wielded by a creature affiliated with a different tribe. Back on Earth I had questioned the logic of keeping the keys so close to the Doors, but then I thought, what if the locks start to undo? You'd need the key nearby to set the lock back in place.

Suddenly, the blue light flares up, and a stream of light connects it with the symbol of the Overworld on the Doors. There's a tremendous sound of stone scrapping stone, and I see the symbol of the Overworld slowly start to turn...

"No!" I shout in reflex. I will the mowercycle to go faster. Please, **please**! I twist the accelerator as hard as I can.

There are five creatures at the base of the Doors, not four. I don't even look at the four holding the keys. Phelphor is my target. And look at that, he's so cooperatively standing exactly in my way.

Phelphor's head turns in my direction. Of **course** the roar of the mowercycle's engine would tip him off. I'm going fast, though, maybe I can get him.

Phelphor flings himself to the side, and I barely miss turning him into a lubricating agent for the mowercycle's wheel. I throw my weight to the side, tilting the vehicle and turning it for another pass.

Over the roar of the engine, I hear Phelphor shout, "Surprising Riffs! Make those gears like rust!"

The mowercycle is suddenly enveloped with magenta light, and the wheel glows blue. I feel the battlegear decelerate, and the engine sputters and dies.

I glance over at Phelphor. One of his arms seems to have turned into jelly, and its twisted form rushes for me. Oh crap, is that-?

I throw myself off the mowercycle and tuck in my arms and legs. I hit the ground and roll, and moments later I hear the sound of metal bending and breaking. I look up to see Phelphor's mutated arm absolutely tear the mowercycle into pieces.

The wreckage of the battlegear falls to the ground. Phelphor's arm snakes back to him and solidifies into its normal shape. Phelphor starts to walk towards me, and he spreads his arms apart and grins. "Greetings, Prince Osiris! Welcome to the prison of my tribe!" I guess he's figured out that I remember now. No need for him to keep up his charade.

I stand up and reach over my shoulder for my cyclance. The controlled roll kept it safe from damage. I swing it around me, removing its strap from my body, and in the same motion I activate its power source. I don't say anything as I raise the cyclance to my eye level, aiming down its length directly at Phelphor.

I pull the trigger. A bolt of lightning erupts from the end of the weapon. Phelphor, though, was ready for it. A flick of his hands, and the line of energy enters not his body, but a column of water that springs from the ground.

The column recedes, crackling with energy, and Phelphor continues to walk forward. "I **knew** you would be the first to remember!" he laughs. "Your mind is slippery, evasive. Might I even say... damaged?"

I fire another pulse of electricity, and again Phelphor blocks with a column of water.

Phelphor brushes his liquid shield aside and continues to approach. "Ah yes, damaged **is** the word I'm looking for!" He claps his hands and smiles. "How amazing that a man with such a debilitating condition as yours has developed such a stable existence!"

I flip a switch near my thumb and pull the trigger again. This time a funnel of wind erupts from my cyclance. Predictably, though, Phelphor has a counter for that too, a sudden cage of ice surrounding him that the wind simply flows around.

The cage of ice shatters, and still Phelphor approaches. "Come now, at least sate my appetite for conversation. Sarah wasn't much for speaking, she was interested in fulfilling more intimate needs."

This cyclance is accomplishing nothing. I eject its power source to prevent it from being used against me, then toss it aside. I lift my leg and draw my dagger from my boot.

"Is that **really** what you want to do?" Phelphor asks. "Do you **really** want to fight me?" _{you Do NoT __WaNT To FiGHT, you WaNT To TaLK.}_

"Out of my head, frog," I snap, ejecting the intrusive thoughts from my mind.

Phelphor's smile melts away, replaced by an angry expression. He still approaches. "Why is such a fragile mind as yours so full of **will**? I **see** the connections, the framework of your mind. There's no rhyme or reason, no structure to support itself. Your memories are connected to each other in haphazard ways, and the slightest push against your mind sends the entire structure into a tumultuous wreck. So, with such a weak structure, **why** is your mind so **strong**!"

I draw my sword and hold it at the ready. Longsword facing Phelphor, tip pointed up at a forty-five degree angle, ready to slab, slice, or block. Dagger held in a reverse grip, ready to catch an attack aimed at my more vulnerable left-hand side.

Phelphor points at me, and his smile returns. "There's no reason for me to fret about it now, though. I'll simply beat you down and take a closer look when you're broken in a heap at my feet." His hand glows-

I flick my left arm in front of me, and my aqua shield hums to life. The fluid field of energy catches a ball of light as it springs from Phelphor's finger.

Phelphor's grin falters for just a second, and then it's back. "Of course, I don't have to beat you. I could just... wait."

I hear a sound like the crack of a massive whip, and the stream of blue light fades. The symbol of the Overworld is now turned on its side, the top of the symbol facing the statues instead of the top of the frame of the Doors. An orange stream of light hits the Danian symbol, and **it** begins to turn.

That's right, Phelphor's controlling them. If I stop him, their minds will be released from his puppetry. I can't remain defensive, I must attack.

I run straight for Phelphor, sword held high and dagger held in front of me. I shout, and the shaping of my helmet transforms my shout into a roar. Phelphor suddenly drops to one knee and raises his arms, and the swing of my sword is suddenly blocked by an archway made of ice.

"**There** we go," Phelphor grins. "What's the phrase you Humans use? Ah, yes. Let's dance."

The archway forms itself into a thin transparent sword made of ice, and Phelphor grabs its handle. Phelphor whips the sword around, and I catch the blade with the flat of my dagger. I swing my sword again, and Phelphor leap backwards. My blade strikes the ground, and Phelphor charges forward, raising his sword up. I flip my dagger in my hand and aim it at his stomach, and he has to leap over me to avoid my strike.

Phelphor somersaults through the air, and I turn my body so that the blade of his sword strike the armor on my back harmlessly as he flies overhead. He lands on the ground behind me, and I turn, planting a foot of the ground and pivoting clockwise over that point, building up the speed of my swing with every muscle of my body. If Phelphor blocks, I will shatter his blade, and my sword will bury itself into his flesh.

Phelphor seems to know my plan, and instead of blocking, he bends backwards, and my sword cuts a path an inch above his skin. Bad move, Phelphor, that's why I turned clockwise. My dagger points down and prepares to disembowel Phelphor as it passes.

There's a flash of light, and I'm suddenly flying through the air. I land painfully on my back, my armor protecting me somewhat while also adding momentum to the motion of my arms and legs. I use the spikes on my back to catch the ground, flip me, and then plant my feet on the ground.

My sword is missing. It flew out of my grip when I was struck by the light. I see Phelphor reach down and pick it up, then aiming both my sword of metal and his sword of ice at me.

There's the sound of a huge whip cracking, and the Danain symbol has turned all the way. A red light streams to the Underworld symbol now.

I rush forwards, switching my dagger to my right hand. I can't afford to keep up my defenses anymore. I just have to strike hard and fast, trusting my armor to protect me and Phelphor's lack of armor to be his end.

Phelphor points both swords at me, one at my chest and the other at my stomach. They ricochet of the metal of my cuirass as I approach, and Phelphor throws himself sideways to dodge my dagger. I plant a foot on the ground, swing my momentum around that point, then charge again at Phelphor.

Phelphor aims both swords at my head, around where the holes for my eyes are. I lower my head and catch the swords with the horns on my helmet, then throw my head back to wrench them from his grip. Phelphor catches my wrist as I thrust my dagger at him, and he throws me over his shoulder.

I hit the ground again, this time on my chest. I skid along the ground, and my attempts to stop myself with my hands fail. I see a seam in the ground, a place where two giant tiles meet, and I thrust my dagger into it as it approaches.

My body slides over the dagger, over my hands, and I push down and flip myself over. My boots hit the ground, and I turn back to Phelphor. I quickly glance at my dagger. Crap, the blade snapped off.

There's the sound of a giant whip. The Symbol of the Underworld stops turning. A yellow light connects with the symbol of the Mipedian tribe. My tribe. The last tribe.

I toss the useless handle of the dagger aside, and I clench my fists and charge at Phelphor. The M'arrillian grins and lifts his hands, and two orbs of water rise from cracks in the ground. I hear him taunt as I approach. "You're running out of time, Osiris! A pity, you tried so hard only to-"

I activate my aqua shield as I swing my left arm, my dominant arm, and the field of energy erupts while my fist is a foot from his face. I can see Phelphor prepare some kind of block, but too little, too late. The aqua shield's energy expands, adding its own reach and simulated mass to my punch, and I catch Phelphor in the face with the edge of the shield.

Phelphor sprawls to the ground. The two orbs of water lose their support, and they splash to the ground.

I look around. Where's my sword? I need my sword to finish him off! As satisfying a beating him to death with my fists would be, I'm running out of time! The Mipedian symbol is-!

The Mipedian. I spin around and charge at the Mipedian holding the yellow key.

There's no time to try a non-violent method. The symbol is already rotated halfway. I grit my teeth together and raise my fist. "Sorry," I mutter.

My punch connects the side of the shield with the side of the Mipedian's head. He staggers sideways, but he still holds up the key. I punch again, this time to his shoulder, and his hand begins to shake. I strike the back of his head with the broad side of the shield, and he crumbles to the ground. The light from the key fades, and the symbol grinds to a halt ten degrees away from unlocking.

I deactivate the aqua shield and kneel down beside the Mipedian. I lift off his hood and examine the damage. There's very little, just a cut, though I definitely gave him a concussion. "I'm so sorry," I whisper as I stand. My chest feels tight, and my heart feels hollow. "I wish I didn't have to do that-"

{YOU! INSOLENT! MEDDLER!}

My mind is alight with fire. I can't feel my body, there's only Phelphor's blazing voice.

{I WAITED TWO THOUSAND SOLANS TO PUT MY PLAN IN ACTION! I LANGUISHED IN THE BITTER COLD! SUBJECTED MYSELF TO AN EON OF SOLITUDE! AND AT THE VERY LAST MOMENT, YOU STEAL AWAY MY TRIUMPH!}

I'm going to die. He's going to scream until the very fabric of my consciousness is torn into pieces and left to burn in the blaze of his voice.

{YOU FILTHY MAGGOT! YOU FESTERING SORE UPON THE FACE OF PERIM! ENJOY YOUR LAST MOMENTS OF LIFE AS I DROWN YOUR SOUL IN THE FLAMES OF MY WRATH!}

Everything is tumbling around me. Shouts and screams and fire.

{YOU DISGUSTING HUMAN! YOU WRETCHED PRINCE! YOU LOATHSOME MIPEDIAN!}

The pain and fire flare brightly-

And then vanish.

I'm on my hands and knees. My body is shaking. My helmet has fallen off, and it rolls to rest next to the key.

{you aRe a MiPeDiaN...}

What? No!

_{PiCK uP THe Key.}_

**No!** I won't do it!

_{PICK! UP! THE! **KEY!**}_

My body stands up on its own. I scream and struggle as my legs take me to where the key lies. My waists bends, and my hand snatches up the key. I burst into tears as I lift the key into the air.

_{uNLoCK THe DooRS.}_

A yellow stream of light erupts from the key and strikes the symbol of my tribe. It begins to rotate again. Nine degrees, eight, seven...

This can't be happening!

Six... five... four...

Stop it! How do I stop?!

Three... two... one...

No! **No! _NOOOOO!_**

There's the sound of a giant whip cracking, and the creaking sound of stone sliding against stone.

The doors fly open. An ocean's worth of water shoots into the air, then starts to come down. I'm frozen as it approaches.

The wave hits me, and I black out from the blow.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Flood**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	68. The Flood

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

******The Flood**

-[]-[]-[]-

...Wh... What's going on...? I feel cold... wet... Something's holding me... There's a pressure in my chest... it's coming up...

I feel water spray from my mouth as I cough. My lungs burn as I gasp for breath. I can't tell which direction is up, the world is spinning around me.

"There you are," a horrible deep voice says. "I couldn't have you drown just quite yet."

I struggle to focus my eyes. Everything's fuzzy. In front of me is a red and black blur. That red blur, it's the thing that's speaking.

The red blur gets larger in my vision. "Now, I don't want to hear a word from you." I feel something wrap around my mouth.

That red blur is Phelphor. I'm going to wring his fat neck! I try to lift my hands at him, but they won't move.

The red blur approaches again, and I feel something press against my forehead. There's a spark of light and- and I can see clearly. There's Phelphor, standing in front of me. Actually, standing **over** me, one foot on either side of my chest.

Phelphor straightens up and grins. "Welcome back, Osiris. I have something you should see. Tell me, what is that above you?"

The M'arrillian steps aside. I see, hanging above me, what looks like a giant mirror.

Phelphor laughs. "What can you see?"

I see me, still in my black armor, minus the helmet. There's a cloth tied around my mouth. My arms are spread out and chained to the stone slab I'm lying on, as are my legs. My head is immobilized by some kind of vice.

"Look past that," Phelphor commands. "What do you see below you?"

Past the stone slab is a small circular floor, and past that floor, what looks like a mile down is... a flood. Water is pouring out of the open Doors, black murky water. Somewhere down there the first forces of the M'arrillians are beginning their invasion. I catch a brief glimpse of a mass of tentacles escaping the Doors before disappearing under the water.

I... I failed...

Phelphor lets out a booming laugh. "My gratitude for your assistance in the freeing of my brethren, Osiris. Now, would you so kindly assist me as I give my thanks to the Cothica atop this broken pillar?"

If I could move I'd **strangle** you, toad.

I hear a scrap of metal, and I can see in the mirror Phelphor moving around to my head. In his hands is my helmet. "Thank you for your cooperation. The Cothica should enjoy the taste of your blood."

The taste of my-?

**Oh**. This is... I'm lying on an altar. A **sacrificial** altar.

I'm blinded for a moment while Phelphor slides my helmet onto my head, and then I can see. I'm struck with claustrophobia, my heart pounds and my skin burns with heat. Phelphor mutters, "And now the warrior, the offering, lies ready for the Great God Cothica."

I see Phelphor remove the scant armor he has and set them aside, the vambraces on his arms, the greaves on his legs, and the pauldron covering his left shoulder. Phelphor's voice begins to sound like a chant as he undresses. "Cover not your body while in the presence of God Cothica, M'arrillian. Bare all and show you hold no secrets from him..." I hear the click of his belt, and his reflection throws aside his kilt.

Great, I'm going to be sacrificed by a naked M'arrillian. What a **wonderful** way for my fourteenth time to end-

It's ending... My breath catches in my throat. Everything I've done, it's all going to go away... The next time I see her, Isis won't know who I am. Neither, Theb-sarr, nor Iflar. I'll once again be a stranger to Maliph and Malvadine, to Sett and to Shasta.

Sett, he'll be once again drinking away his sorrows, his happy life with Ashley erased from existence. Shasta will be once again have to endure seeing his brother-in-law, drunken and deranged, confusing him for his dead wife and trying to act on his desires.

Hera, poor Hera... She may not even have a chance to exist next time. She was born after the Human tribe's arrival in Perim, and the winds of probability are unlikely to create her ever again.

Everything that's happened, everything I've accomplished, is about to die.

A tugging at the side of my chest shakes me from my thoughts. In the mirror I see Phelphor undoing the straps that hold my breastplate to my body. A sharp tug, and it loosens. Phelphor peels away the armor and lets it clatter to the ground.

"Present the offering," Phelphor chants. "Whet the God's appetite." I feel his hand touch my chest and stroke down. The touch makes my stomach recoil. The hand strokes down past my navel, then strokes up, across the muscle of my stomach, my chest, then comes to rest on my throat.

I want to thrash, to scream, but I'm paralyzed. All I can do is watch.

Phelphor stands again, and I see a wicked grin on his face. "Prepare the tool for the sacrifice," he practically sings, and water starts to flow from his hands. It shapes itself into a thick curved knife and freezes into a cloudy blade of ice.

Phelphor reaches down and strokes the tip of the knife across my neck. He laughs, and in a normal tone of voice, he asks, "Do you know what I'm going to do? How I will offer your heart to Cothica?"

You'll stick the blade in my stomach and slice it down. Then you'll reach inside, maneuver your hand to my rib cage, then shove it in until your hand pierces my diaphragm. Your hand will penetrate my chest cavity, pushing aside my lungs, and wrap itself around my heart. You will pull, and the vessels holding my heart in place will tear and break. You'll extract my heart and raise it up, still beating, while I watch as I die. Then you'll unchain me from the altar and throw my body from this pillar.

Phelphor's grin flickers for a moment. "You already know? How?"

I'll never tell.

Phelphor's savage smile returns. "No matter, I'll figure it out when I search your mind..." The frozen blade he holds trails down to my chest. "I'll dissect your mind, no, vivisect it, and learn how to control other minds like yours..."

I try to force myself not to think. No, I don't want to die. I'm going to lose so much here. Still, come my fifteenth time, on my sixteenth, or even later, I will find a way to kill Phelphor.

Phelphor's knife slowly traces down my sternum, until it hovers around the place were bone ends and muscle begins. "I'm going to enjoy carving you open," Phelphor whispers. "The feeling I get when I feed God, it surpasses any pleasure of the flesh." As if to illustrate his point, he straightens up and shows his naked and aroused body to me.

If I had anything in my stomach, I would have vomited at the sight. Phelphor doesn't look like he's about to kill someone, he looks like he's ready to mate. A horrifying image flits through my mind, an image of the red M'arrillian copulating with my corpse.

"Now **there's** an idea," Phelphor laughs. He raises the knife. "I may have to try it out..."

...Please, let me die quickly...

Phelphor begins to chant again. "Cothica! Here is the heart of your foe! I offer it in gratitude of my triumph!"

The knife comes down. A sharp pain flares in my stomach as the knife drags down. Piercing pushing, the feeling of a foreign object in my stomach. My body spasms as the M'arrillian's hand punctures the muscles of my diaphragm, and then there's the bizarre feeling across my chest as the hand finds my heart. Phelphor pulls-

M-my chest is empty... hollow... i-it's missing... The world is starting to blur together... My vision is clear, though, and I see Phelphor stand and raise a- raise **my** heart into the air...

Everything feels so heavy... my mind is fluttering, buzzing... but still I see Phelphor... holding my heart in one hand and his other hand wrapping around his... his... oh God... he's **pleasuring** himself... He's getting off on watching me die...

Phelphor laughs loudly. "Now show me your mind, Osiris! Show me your mind as it dies!"

-[]-[]-[]-

A field of crystal towers. Rain made of diamonds. Trees of gems and rivers of quartz.

Wh-what is all this?

{WeLCoMe To YouR MiND, oSiRiS.}

Phelphor! What did you do to me?!

{you aLReaDy KNoW, uNLeSS you ReFeR To WHaT iS NoW HaPPeNiNG. iN THaT CaSe, i KNoW NoT. you SHouLD NoT Be aBLe To See WHaT i aM SeeiNG.}

You won't find anything you can use here, Phelphor!

_{SiLeNCe.}_

A spectral red hand touches one of the towers. A song plays throughout the emptiness of the area. It's a song, one that my mother sang to me many times when I was young. The spectral red hand touches another tower, and my young voice sounds singing a nonsense song.

This is what my mind looks like to Phelphor... Strange, it doesn't **look** fragile like he said-

The spectral hand punches the tower, and suddenly everything rearranges. The towers fracture and become many-pointed stars. The rain collects together and forms an enormous crystal flower. The rivers and the trees start to flare like a wildfire.

The red spectral hand touches one of the petals of the crystal bloom, and the empty air seems to glow. A feeling enters my consciousness. Sadness, mixed with anger. Another petal is touched, and suddenly I feel like leaping for joy.

The spectral hand opens, then closes around the flower. The crystals all shatter, then rearrange, this time into a grid of squares, with the remaining scraps of crystal orbiting around each other high overhead. The spectral hand touches one square, and the image of a woman rises from the square. I know her, she works the same shift as me. Another square is touched, and an image of my younger brother rises from it.

The hand balls into a fist and smashes the grid. Crystals begin to fly around as if caught in a tornado, then they slowly collect into an enormous round ball.

{WHaT?}

Did... Did Phelphor just get confused? What's this ball, then?

The hand approaches the ball, and the hand begins to flicker as it nears the crystal surface. {WHaT iS THiS? My BoDy TreMBLeS aS i NeaR iT, aS iF iT WaS **My** MiND i WaS aBouT To TouCH.}

...No, it can't be... I thought that... I thought that this would stay hidden! Wh-what will happen when Phelphor sees what it is?!

The spectral hand touches the sphere-

-[]-[]-[]-

My chest burns with fury. My hands clench on the arms of my throne. I cannot believe the insolence, the arrogance, the pride of the creature before me.

"You sent him to Jade Pillar **alone**!" I bellow. The air crackles with electricity with my voice.

Mudeenu bows at my feet. "I'm sorry, Father!" he pleads. "I-I just assumed-"

"You were **careless**, Mudeenu!" I roar. "Has Osiris ever done something so rash without good reason?!"

"King Theb-sarr," Sobtjek calls out, grabbing my arm. "Now is not the time for rage. We need to learn how we can reach Prince Osiris again."

I growl at my son Mudeenu before turning away. "What mugics do we have available to us, Sobtjek?"

-[]-[]-[]-

The red hand recoils. {**WHaT**? BuT How?!} It touches another part of the sphere.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Pull!" I shout, and the workers do so, pulling the rope and hoisting the large stone.

Seven solans of work, and we're **still** not done repairing the outer walls of Kiru City. At least we are still protected from attack via the inner sets of walls.

"Austin!" one of the creatures shouts. "We're running low on mortar!"

I point my silver cane at a group of Humans and Overworlders. "Go check on the new batch, quickly!"

They scramble, and I set the cane down. I see a speck of dust land on my sleeve, and I brush it off with my hand.

-[]-[]-[]-

{THiS iS Not PoSSiBLe!} The hand touches another place.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Ha ha ha! Daddy! Stop it!"

I run around the table, and Daddy chases me with his hands outstretched. "Here comes the tickle monster, Hera!" Daddy laughs.

I giggle and hide under the table. Daddy stops and looks around. "Oh Hera? Where did you go?"

I hold my hands to my mouth and hold back my laughs. Of course Daddy knows where I am, but it's so **funny**!

Daddy ducks down. "There you are!"

I squeal and scramble away, but Daddy catches me an lifts me up. I laugh as he pokes my tummy.

"Michael! Hera!" That's Mommy's voice!

Daddy holds me to his chest and calls out, "Yes Isis?"

-[]-[]-[]-

{NO! NO! NO!} The hand hovers over the sphere, as if searching for something, then presses down.

-[]-[]-[]-

{NO! NO! NO!} I cry out as I retrieve the projection of my hand. How can there be **people** inside Osiris's mind?

I-if I'm right... If my prediction is right... then...

Am **I** in here? Where am I here? I hover my hand over the surface, searching. There's a place that feels... horrible to me... I touch it.

-[]-[]-[]-

_**{GYAAAAAHHH!}**_

-[]-[]-[]-

"Fleshshaper's Shanty!" Phelphor's voice cries out. A mugic rises from his hand, and a black ghost rises from his body. Seven notes play, and a black smoke erupts from the mugic. "Make this body whole!"

Fleshshaper's... Shanty... I don't... recognize... that...

**AAAHHH!** My chest! I can see my chest rip itself open in the mirror above me!

My ribs fly open like a pair of jaws, and my heart leaps from Phelphor's hand to its rightful place in my body. The veins and arteries knit back onto my heart, and then my ribs close. My skin starts to fuse together, and as suddenly as the shocking display began, it ends. There's not even a trace of the damage that had been there previously.

Phelphor is pointing at my, his body trembling. "You! H-how?! If you- How?!"

...He's figured it out... Oh my God, what's going to happen?

"But I have free will! I think, I feel! If all of this is true, then why am I in your head?!"

I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to see the look of horror on Phelphor's face.

Phelphor's voice is a screech. "You **knew**! You knew all this time! You knew that all of this, the entirety of Perim, you knew that all of this was nothing but... nothing but...!"

Don't say it, Phelphor!

Phelphor grabs my shoulders and shakes. "You're the only real thing here! How could reality be nothing but your dream?!"

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act III: Invader**_** is complete!**

_**Act IV: Lucidity**_** is coming!**

**Up next: ****The Nature of My Dreams  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

******If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	69. The Nature of My Dreams

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act IV: Lucidity**_

**The Nature of My Dreams**

-[]-[]-[]-

Inside the Deepmines...

Everything looks like it's at the bottom of the ocean. Fish swim around, seaweed reaches up, coral sprouts from the ground. But it's **not** at the bottom of the ocean, there's air instead of water.

I'm inside a massive floating chariot with Phelphor. There are no wheels, it simply hovers over the ground. It's being pulled by a black, tuna-like fish the size of a car that swims through the air just like it was water. The chariot itself is a dull green and looks like it was carved from a mass of coral.

I'm completely immobilized, chains lifting my arms above my head and attaching them to the back of the chariot. My feet are locked against the back too, forcing me to kneel with my legs spread out, and a short chain wraps around my chest and presses my back against the chariot's wall.

Phelphor is sitting opposite me, one of the boots from my armor in his hands. He's staring at it intently. The rest of my armor is piled at my feet. In fact, everything I had been wearing is piled there, everything except my helmet, which he left on my head. The helmet really only serves to draw attention to the fact that, not counting it, I'm completely freaking naked.

Phelphor, on the other hand, is completely dressed, his kilt held up by his belt and his armor back on his arms, legs, and left shoulder. Well, as completely dressed as he usually is. He's half naked by Overworld commoner standards, for example, and overdressed by Danian mandiblor or Mipedian servant standards.

"Quit **thinking** so loudly!" Phelphor growls, his eyes darting up to look at me briefly before returning his attention to my boot.

No, I won't, Phelphor. As long as this gag is on my mouth I will think as loudly as I can manage.

Phelphor glances up at me again, then back down to my boot.

Oh please, Phelphor, sate my desire for conversation, why don't you?

Phelphor drops the boot and picks up my cuirass.

Cat got your tongue, toad?

Phelphor screams, throws down my cuirass, and stands. A sharp icicle forms around his fist as he storms towards me, and he presses the point against my throat. "Stop **thinking** at me!"

I've got a song for you. Prissy little Phelphor, crying like a baby, whining like a little brat, howling like a dog.

Phelphor grits his teeth, and I feel the icicle tremble against my skin. Then he growls loudly and pulls his hand away from my throat. "I know what you're trying to do, **Michael**," he mutters as the ice around his hand melts. "If you die, you wake up, and when you fall asleep again the world starts over."

Phelphor returns to his seat and picks up my cuirass again. I don't think he's actually interested in it. It seems a lot like he's staring at it so he doesn't look at me.

I wonder what he's thinking? He just learned that everything, all of Perim and everyone in it, is the result of my dreaming mind. What does one **feel** when he or she learns that?

Phelphor's eyes dart up to me again. "I wonder how **you** feel about everything," he growls. "Spending so many solans in this world, knowing all the while that none of it is real, that your mind is fabricating the entire experience." His eyes drop back to my cuirass. "Then again, I don't want to know."

...Good...

We travel in silence for a while longer. Then Phelphor looks at me. "I wonder..." His eyes lock with mine-

-[]-[]-[]-

_**After Time 12:**_

(Hey Z,) I type in the chat bar, (what would u do if you suddenly appeared in Perim? You have no warning, and you can't bring anything with you except the clothes you are wearing.) I hit enter, then turn my attention back to the game I'm playing.

About half a minutes later, my friend's reply pops up. (Hiya quazer. Where in perim?)

Good point. I keep appearing in different places in Perim each night. Let's see... (Say 1, 2, 3, or 4, and i'll tell u where u appear)

My friend's reply comes much quicker this time. (Ah, its random. Um, 2)

I was associating the numbers with the order that I've been visiting Perim in. (U appear in the Mipedim Oasis, in a dusty, nondescript road.)

It takes a while before my friend replies. I type, (Z?)

A minute later, he responds, (Sorry, got into combat. These new combat rules make it hard to talk)

(I know right?) I reply.

(Is anyone else with me?) my friend asks.

I close my eyes and envision the scene. (Nine other people. Eight are children, 1 is an adult.)

(Ok.) A pause. I get in a fight with a grotworm monster while I wait. (Do they know about perim?)

I switch to the chat bar. The grotworm isn't enough of a problem for me not to chat. (It doesn't look like it. The children are all scared, and the adult looks horribly confused.) I press enter and turn my attention back to the fight.

We continue to type back and forth as we play. He types his actions, while I try to follow the general flow of my dreams. When Z finishes with his meeting with King Theb-sarr, I type, (Congradulations, u survived ur first day in Perim.) Ugh, I don't think I spelled "congratulations" right. Oh well.

(Yay) comes Z's reply.

I type, (I sure as heck didn't survive that long -my- first day.) Stupid chat bar doesn't have a bold option.

There's a long pause. I accidentally get really low on health and decide to run from the fight I'm in. Then Z replies, (You went to perim? O_o )

(In my dream.) I clarify. (Actually, in my past twelve dreams.)

(Oooooh) Z responds. ( :D you have awesome dreams, quazer. Tell me about perim)

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

Phelphor closes his eyes and shakes his head. "No, not possible," he mutters, but he doesn't sound sure.

I feel like ants are crawling on my skin. Phelphor just looked at a memory of my real life! That... what... how? I thought my real-life memories were **safe** from that kind of intrusion while I'm dreaming!

Wait, no, it makes sense. **This** dream features what is basically my real self. Well, it **started** with what was basically my real self. Not anymore, though, what with me aging around six years in here.

"How are you so **calm?**!" Phelphor shouts. "What, do you **often** go around completely destroying other creatures' beliefs about how reality works? Are **all** of your dream like this? Following a perfect logic until you drop this **bombshell** on everyone?" He stares at my eyes-

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Something Completely Different:**_

I shout, "Hey guys, watch this!"

Everyone turns to watch. I lift the shopping bag over my head, start running, then leap. The wind catches the bag exactly when I jump, and I'm lifted **high** into the air.

I can see the rooftops! I can see everyone cheering down below! I can see-!

**Gah!** Too high! Too high!

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Time 14:**_

Phelphor blinks. "What the hell was **that**?"

That was a dream from a year ago that reminded me that I'm still terrified of heights sometimes while I'm dreaming.

Phelphor shudders and looks away from me. "I'm not going to look inside your head anymore." Was... was that a **whimper**?

The chariot continues to travel through the Deepmines. I know where it's headed. Eventually we will arrive at the city of M'arr...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Hero of the Other Side**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

******If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	70. The Hero of the Other Side

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Hero of the Other Side**

-[]-[]-[]-

How long have we been riding? I have no idea. It's given me a long time to think, but with Phelphor right there, able to peer inside my head at any moment, it's hard for me to concentrate on any deliberate thought.

The cavern is widening. There's a soft glow on the ceiling, and a school of those bizarre air-swimming fish flit by overhead. It's actually quite beautiful. I wish the circumstances were better...

I hear a trumpet. Pherphor lifts his gaze from the pile of my armor in front of him, and he turns around to look at the sound. I hear a shaky gasp from him. "M'arr," he whispers.

So... we've reached the city.

Phelphor stands and waves his hands over the walls of the chariot. They start to shorten, shrink into the floor, all except the wall I'm chained to. Phelphor's chair disappears, as well.

A loud voice in the distance shouts, "Our savior has returned! The Opener of the Doors approaches! Phelphor has come!"

Phelphor's chest starts to heave. "They remember my name," he breathes. "Two thousand solans, and they remember my name..."

-[]-[]-[]-

"Phelphor... Phelphor... Phelphor..."

We aren't even through the gates yet, and I already hear the chanting of a crowd. The voices are hushed and reverent, so to be able to hear it from this distance means that it must be the entire city's worth of M'arrillians chanting the name.

"Phelphor... Phelphor... Phelphor..."

The same name I spat with disdain and disgust, the same name that filled my heart with terror... Hearing it like this is... I can't even **describe **how it feels to hear it this way! The best I can think of is that it's like something has gone very wrong with the world.

Phelphor glances at me. His face is full of confusion. "Have they really been waiting for two thousand solans?" he wonders aloud. "Or did they only start to exist when **he **fell asleep?"

The gates to M'arr loom in front of us, made of a bizarre mixture of coral and rust. The chariot pauses, and there's a deafening screech as the gate begins to sink into the ground.

Lower and lower, and I see the tops of round buildings. Lower and lower, and I see the glow of what could be streetlights. Lower, lower...

There's a tremendous crowd. Otherworldly creatures that look as if they're made out of light. Blobs of jelly with mouths and eyes. Jellyfish, octopi, creatures made of coral. They all stand or hover beside a road, a path for the chariot between them. Every creature, every M'arrillian, turns to face Phelphor, and at once they let out an earsplitting cheer. "Phelphor! Phelphor! **Phelphor!**"

The chariot is quickly swarmed with creatures. Hands and tentacles are reaching out to touch Phelphor, and expressions of worshipful joy and delight are on everyone's faces. Phelphor looks around in open-mouthed shock for a while, shock that slowly turns into delight. He spreads his arms out and raises them a little above his shoulders, and the crowd cheers.

...They love him... Everyone here absolutely **loves **Phelphor... He opened the Doors, he had set them free...

The chariot continues, and creatures crowd around the chariot every chance they get. Most everyone's eyes are on Phelphor, though a few curious and wary looks are directed my way as well.

One small jellyfish points a tentacle at me, and a high voice says, "What's that, Mother?"

A similar but larger jellyfish wraps its tentacles around the smaller one. "Don't look at it."

Apparently it's possible to feel even more naked than you already are. My pulse rises, and my palms feel sweaty. My muscles are starting to cramp. These stupid chains! I can't move at all!

-[]-[]-[]-

The chariot is drawing close to a castle. There are several creatures on a balcony, looking down at the crowd. They're too high to see clearly, and I can't even turn my head up to take a better look.

I hear voices say, "The Oligarchs speak! The Oligarchs speak!"

Oligarchs? I feel ice crawl down my spine. One of those creatures up there has to be Aa'une, the leader- or rather one of the leaders of the M'arrillian tribe.

The crowd falls silent, and everyone's eyes turn up to the balcony. The chariot slows and stops. At the edge of my vision I see a figure, I can't even tell what color, spread its arm.

I don't hear anything. Instead, a deep, powerful voice sounds inside my head, probably inside everyone's heads. {My people, my tribe, my brother and sister M'arrillians... Saint Phelphor has returned!}

Saint Phelphor? **Saint?!**

The cheers again, but Phelphor looks befuddled.

{Two thousand solans past, the creature before you took on a dangerous task. While your ancestors were being forced here into the Deepmines, he allowed himself to be frozen in time, so that one day, when Perim had forgotten us, he might awaken and free us!}

That has to be Aa'une. My memory of his voice in the show is fuzzy, but it feels very similar.

There are cheers from everyone again. Phelphor's confusion has vanished, and now he's drinking up the praise.

Aa'une's "voice" becomes soft. {Great God Cothica, we praise you... Our most humble prayers flow forth to find you...}

Everyone else immediately joins, saying, "For long we have languished in the pit of Perim... Now with your grace we shall all be free... Bless us to once again feel the currents and the tides... Bless us with the warmth of the sun and the spray of the sea..."

Phelphor's smile is fading, and he glances back at me as everyone else chants. His expression tells me exactly what he's thinking: are they praying to you?

No, they are not. I'm not God.

Phelphor's brow furrows, and he turns away.

Aa'une "voice" shouts, {'Tis time for celebration! We feast! We drink! We dance!} I see the indistinct figure give a sweep of its arm. {Open the storehouses! Prepare the kitchens! The brewery! The slaughterhouse! Now is the time for a celebration that time itself has seen no greater!}

The responding roar of joy is painful to my ears. A coral creature grabs Phelphor and lifts him onto its own head. Phelphor wheels his arms to catch his balance, and the coral creature marches. The crowd follows Phelphor, and soon I'm alone in with the chariot.

...Hello?

{it's certainly a joy that phelphor has returned}

{yes it certainly is, but we cannot shirk our-}

{duties, of course not, so let us bring in the chariot}

What the-?

A small set of doors open up. Behind them are two light blue... worms, that's exactly what they look like, huge earthworms the size of small cars colored light blue. They look exactly alike, and they float about a foot off the ground. They approach the fish that had been pulling the chariot.

{who's a good fishy, who's a good fishy}

{that one is, such a good fishy pulling phelphor's chariot}

{oh, is the fishy tired, it needs its rest}

{the fishy is-}

{female, the fishy needs **her **rest}

The worms somehow manage to take the chariot off of the fish, and the fish swims through the doors.

{let us move the chariot, oh it's so amazing that we can touch the vehicle-}

{he rode in on, you do realize that phelphor is-}

{male, yes i do, isn't he-}

{dreamy, but you are also-}

{male, no, today i am female}

{is it that time of the month again}

{did you even-}

{check, i did not, and now that i have, i see i am also female now}

{seriously, sister, must you always forget the day}

{you forget-}

{as often as you, yes}

{do you ever wonder-}

{what that thing is in the chariot right now}

{that was not what i was going-}

{to say, yes, but there is something in the-}

{chariot, yes, i see}

Both worms are staring at me, or they would be if they had eyes. Who knows, maybe they do.

By the way... What. The. Hell?

The two wormlike M'arrillians stare at me, and I stare back. Not like I have much of a choice in the matter. Soon I "hear" one of their soft psychic voices again.

{what is it}

{phelphor brought it with-}

{him, maybe for something-}

{in particular, should we ask-}

{him, i think not, we're not allowed-}

{to speak to anyone, so what do we do}

I try to think at them the same way I'd been thinking at Phelphor. Would one of you... lovely ladies unchain me?

{let us put our heads together and think}

{good idea, sister}

The two worms swing their heads at each other, and there's a light slapping sound as they collide.

{well, first we must determine-}

{what it is, and whether it is friendly-}

{or not, i think not}

{why}

{look at that head, it's-}

{scary and doesn't look like the rest of its body, but i-}

{disagree, yes, but see, when has anything with mismatched body parts ever been-}

{friendly, well that Kha'rall was friendly}

{until it tried to eat us, remember}

{ah, yes, but maybe it isn't-}

{attached, let us see}

I feel my helmet lift off my head. So the worms are telekinetic? That's amazing, I'd be more excited if I wasn't so freaking scared.

{it's not attached}

{told you it was friendly}

{it not being attached does not mean-}

{that it's friendly, correct, might as well put it back on}

My helmet slides back on my head. This is so incredibly bizarre.

{i don't like the word it, let us-}

{find the creature's gender, i say female}

{it's most definitely male}

{but i'd like it to be female}

{look, it has a penis}

Yeah, sure, I'm **completely** okay with the direction this conversation is going. Not.

{perhaps it's-}

{something else, true, but i think i'm right}

{it could be an egg-laying part of the body}

{well how do we tell}

{i know, we'll-}

{see how it reacts, that's brilliant}

Hey! Whoa! Can't you two hear my thoughts?! No touching! No touching! No-! Gyah!

{it got harder, definitely a penis}

{looks like i was right}

{i was the one to say it was male}

{was not}

{was so}

{was not}

{was so}

{i'm telling mother}

{i'm telling **father**}

{he's a she now, actually}

{then i'm telling **other mother**}

{by the way, are you actually mad at me}

{of course not}

{thank you, i'm telling other mother **first**}

...Maybe I've just gone insane. That's a possible explanation for what's happening right now. I try to shake the chains, but I still can't move. Stop **touching **me there!

Whether from my mental shout or something else, the worms back away.

{maybe he's the sacrifice}

{the sacrifice, him}

{look, this armor looks the same as-}

{his helmet, ah yes, he could be the sacrifice}

The sacrifice? Yes, please, kill me so I get out of this mind-screw.

{what if he's not the sacrifice}

{how about we prepare him for it and then let-}

{phelphor see it and see how he reacts}

No! I'm the sacrifice!

{that's a marvelous idea}

{let us go}

I feel my stomach jolt as the entire wall I'm chained to is lifted up, and the worms drag me through the small doors.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Oligarchy**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

******If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	71. The Oligarchy

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Oligarchy**

-[]-[]-[]-

{you would think that a sacrifice would put up a least **some **resistance}

{indeed, it's almost as if-}

{he was looking forward-}

{to having his heart torn out}

Apparently being prepared to the sacrificial altar means receiving a scrub down... while still gagged and in chains. Even as a **prisoner **I don't get the chance to wash myself. How long has it been since I took a bath, shower, or anything like it alone?

{there, all clean}

{you missed a spot}

{where}

{right **there**}

One of the worms throws her sponge at the other.

{very funny}

{i know}

{i was joking}

{me too}

The worms swing their heads at each other, and there's a wet slapping sound as they hit, like someone getting slapped by a fish.

{i still love you}

{me too}

"What's going on here!"

The worms turn their heads to the door. My heart freezes. It's Phelphor. He's wearing a black cloak instead of his normal attire, but it's definitely him. There's a look of shock and fear on his face.

{it's phelphor}

{this is so exciting}

{does phelphor want a bath}

{does phelphor want a meal}

Phelpher's voice is almost a screech. "Are you preparing for a sacrifice? He's not a sacrifice!"

{we were worried about that}

{yes we were, maybe he's-}

{phelphor's pet or maybe a servant}

{we didn't remove the chains or the gag, though we did-}

{remove the helmet, I hope phelphor is not terribly-}

{angry with us}

As Phelphor steps in, another creature appears behind him. The upper half of the creature is somewhat humanoid in shape, while its lower half is a mass of tentacles. The creature's skin is blue, with a hint of a bio-luminescent glow surrounding it. The humanoid upper half of the creature looks strong, with a large muscular chest on top of a narrower but equally muscular abdomen as well as a pair of powerful arms. The creature's eyes and the inside of its mouth glow bright white, and where a Human might have hair, the creature has thick flowing tentacles.

The creature wears a pair of golden bracers on its forearms and a gold band with eye-shaped markings around its chest, starting at the bottom of its sternum and looping in a crest around its shoulders. It wears a gold loincloth around its waist that hangs past the humanoid part of its body down to the mass of tentacles, and floating around the creature's head is what appears to be a crown made of light.

If Phelphor scares me, then this creature fills me with blood-curdling, bone-chilling, mind-numbing terror. This is Aa'une, Oligarch of the M'arrillians, potentially one of the most dangerous creatures in Perim.

Aa'une glances at the worms, then at Phelphor. "I see you have met the Twins," he says aloud in a deep voice.

Phelphor rushes past the worms and hoists me out of the tub they'd put me in. "I know you're preparing a celebration for my return, but I did not bring this creature as a sacrifice!"

"As a prisoner, then?" Aa'une asks.

Phelphor mumbles, "Yes, prisoner."

"I see," Aa'une answers. "Twins, return to your duties. The chieftains will no doubt send us minions from the surface before the celebration begins, so we can select an appropriate sacrifice to Cothica when the time is right."

{the creature had armor}

{will oligarch aa'une and phelphor want to-}

{take that as well}

"I'll send a Kha'rall for it," Aa'une says with a wave of his hand. "Come, Saint Phelphor, we are already late." He points a hand at me, and my stomach drops as I feel gravity lose its grip on me.

Phelphor snatches my helmet from the pile of armor and puts it on my head.

Aa'une stares at me, then at Phelphor. "...Very well, then..." He turns and leaves the room, and I start floating along behind him.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's a large, circular room. The walls are black, and what looks like a white spiral galaxy is carved into the floor. The ceiling is high and supported by arches.

There are two other creatures already inside when Aa'une, Phelphor and I arrive. One looks like a violet eel with an extra eye in the middle of its forehead, and the other... well, the closest thing I can compare it to is a silver giant clam. The eel waves its body restlessly, and the giant clam sits very still, its shell closed.

Aa'une floats between the two creatures and turns to face Phelphor, who sits on a stool that seems to materialize out of thin air. I'm dumped unceremoniously into a corner.

Aa'une speaks, saying, "I, Aa'une, recognize Phelphor, Savior of the M'arrillians."

The eel's jaws move, and a raspy voice says, "I, K'yall, recognize Phelphor, Savior of the M'arrillians."

The giant clam glows with a red light, and inside my head I hear a voice slowly say, {I-Pah'ziq-recognize-Phelphor-Savior-of-the-M'arri llians...}

Phelphor bows his head. "I am honored to meet the Oligarchy of this new age." Then he looks up at Aa'une. "I'm still surprised to see you, though."

Aa'une chuckles, "I didn't dare dream I would see you again either, Phelphor. I was young when you began your mission."

Phelphor flinches violently at the word dream. "I remember it well..."

Phelphor's reaction did not go unnoticed, but nobody seems to draw attention to it. Instead, Aa'une says, "We are deeply curious about what happened above. Will you show us?"

Phelphor grits his teeth together, and I see him tap his fingers against his knees. "I... will show you some of what happened." He closes his eyes.

I don't notice any change. Is he literally sending them memories?

K'yall's eyes dart towards me. "Is that creature the same one that's in the room with us?"

Phelphor nods.

Pah'ziq glows, {To-resist-your-control... Incredible...}

They sit in silence for a moment, the K'yall mutters, "Those creatures- Danians, they seem to be somewhat similar to us- No, wait, don't skip that." K'yall grins toothily. "Well, you certainly seem to have enjoyed your time with this 'Sarah'. I'll have to purchase a copy of these memories for my own entertainment later."

More silence, then-

"Why did you stop sending to us?" Aa'une asks.

Phelphor's eyes dart towards me. "I... uh..."

Aa'une looks at me. "Yes, I understand that he is the creature that tried to stop you. I also saw that you were preparing to sacrifice him to Cothica, yet here he is."

Phelphor's hands tremble. "E-events conspired to-"

{Is-he-causing-you-distress...?} Pah'ziq asks.{We-could-do-away-with-him-if-it-would-set-yo ur-mind-at-ease...}

"No!" Phelphor shouts. "I-it's critical that Michael remains alive!"

"Who's Michael?" K'yall asks. "Ah, probably Prince Osiris."

"Why is his survival so important? Aa'une asks.

Phelphor presses his lips shut and looks away.

Aa'une stares at Phelphor for several minutes. Then he says, "K'yall, Pah'ziq, may we have a minute or so alone?"

"Very well." {Very-well...} The two oligarchs disappear in a flash of light.

Aa'une's brow furrows. "Phelphor, tell me what the problem is."

"I-I can't," Phelphor stammers. "You wouldn't even believe me."

"Does the creature- the Human, does he know what the problem is?"

Phelphor's eyes widen. "Don't speak to him. Don't get anywhere close to his mind."

"You speak as if he's dangerous," Aa'une says. He folds his arms. "How dangerous?"

Phelphor opens and shuts his mouth like a beached fish struggling for water. "I-I can't tell you..."

Aa'une turns his entire body towards me, and he lifts a hand up. "Then I must ask him."

I feel my body lift into the air and drift towards Aa'une's hand. I feel the terror return.

Phelphor begins to hyperventilate. "Please! Don't! You don't want to know the things he knows!"

Aa'une firmly says, "Whatever danger he presents, I must risk it in the service of the tribe."

Phelphor stands and takes a step forward, reaching out as if to grab me, but before he can, Aa'une's hand touches my forehead. It feels like ice-

-[]-[]-[]-

{Now, what in your mind terrifies my old friend so much...}

It's... not like when Phelphor searched my mind. When he did, I could see a landscape of crystal. Now, I only see darkness.

{Ear for soft music, fear of heights, likes the color blue... Hm, your mind is quite disorganized...}

What's going to happen when Aa'une finds-?

{What's this?}

...Finds that...

{This doesn't look at all like a normal mind.}

I see a spectral blue hand appear, and suddenly my vision is filled with tiny long threads. The blue hand approaches one of the threads. {What do you have stored in-}

-[]-[]-[]-

I hear my name being called out over the sound of the battle. "Khybon! The pipes! A M'arrillian is attacking the pipes!"

I turn my gaze to the Human who had called out, just in time to see his gut become shredded by a powerful blast of water-

-[]-[]-[]-

{What is the name of Cothica was that?}

The blue hand reaches for another thread. {I-if I hold the other end of-?}

-[]-[]-[]-

"Princess Isis," the servant says as I approach the balcony, "you shouldn't be here. The intruder might be dangerous."

I wave the servant away as I approach the railing. "I'll be perfectly fine up here. I just want to see what this intruder is like."

I lean over the edge in time to see my brother Mudeenu kneel and say, "King Theb-sarr, this is one of the intruders you were informed of."

The intruder, a strange creature with black hair and odd clothes, bows after a few seconds. "Your Majesty," he says.

My father grins. "I see, Mudeenu. Yes, he does certainly look like enough of a problem to interrupt my duties."

I chuckle a little at the look on my brother's face. He bows and mutters, "Yes... I... may have overreacted a little when I sent a messenger for you. Still, I believe this is important."

Father says, "He looks more like a lost soul than an intruder to me. What is your name, and where do you hail from?"

I blink. If my eyes aren't deceiving me, then the odd creature just silently said the same words as my father-

-[]-[]-[]-

{Who are all these creatures?} Aa'une sounds completely confused. He grabs another-

-[]-[]-[]-

I growl, "I'll make you hurt. You can't even **dream **of the things I can do to you."

Michael rolls his eyes. "You can do worse than stick a sword through my gut, severing my spine?"

What?

-[]-[]-[]-

"**Augh!**"

Aa'une flings me aside. I see stars as the back of my head collides with a wall, and I crumble face down to the ground. This helmet may well have kept me from falling unconscious.

I hear Phelphor cry out, "Aa'une! Are you all right?!"

Aa'une's breath comes out ragged. "Th-the world continues to exists while he sleeps, correct?"

"Yes," Phelphor answers.

I feel a sudden sharp pain in my back, and all sensation in my body fades...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Illusion of Reality**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

******If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	72. The Illusion of Reality

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Illusion of Reality**

-[]-[]-[]-

I push myself to a sitting position... Ugh, that made my head spin... How long have I been out?

I lift my arms over my head and stretch. I guess the chains are off. I open and close my mouth experimentally. The gag is gone, too. I summon the strength to open my eyes.

The walls, the ceiling, the floor, all of it is made of gray stone. There's a small window on the far end of the room. I stand up and-

Wait... nope, I'm chained to the wall. How did I not feel those? Gah, my head... maybe I'm not entirely awake yet...

I look at myself. I'm wearing a threadbare beige tunic that reaches halfway between my hips and knees. A pair of chains attached to my wrists restrict how far I can take them from the back wall, and another pair attached to my ankles do likewise. No pants, though. Is it really that hard to make a pair of pants for a prisoner?

...Prisoner... I'm a prisoner of the M'arrillians...

I haven't had enough time to really think ever since Phelphor looked inside my head. Mostly I've been reacting to things around me. Finally I have some time to really digest what's happened. Of course, all there are to think about are horrible things... What will happen if I never get out of here?

Hera... I never said goodbye. The last thing she'll remember about me is how loud I shouted when I saw that letter. Her last memory of me will be about the time I made her cry...

Isis, did I even say goodbye to her? No, not really, I just sent her to speak with Theb-sarr. When will she learn that the Doors opened? She probably already knows. If Khybon is fighting against the M'arrillians at what was probably the Lava Pond, then the attack has already started. She knows, and she knows that I couldn't stop Phelphor.

And her child, I had only barely learned she was pregnant. Juel or Jupiter? I might never know. The child would ask, "Where is Father?" and Isis would reply, "The M'arrillians have him." Unless they think I'm dead...

{How interesting, the fantasies you'll create to keep up the illusion that you actually **love **your so-called family.}

My skin feels like ice. That was Aa'une's "voice."

{Are you Cothica? But you **can't** be, you're just a Human. Your kind isn't even **native **to Perim.}

"I'm not a god!" I croak. Ow... Speaking is painful.

{So what does that leave us? A dreamer? That's **worse **than you pretending to be God. What am I, then? Am I a chemical system within your sleeping brain? Is my entire life a lie? Am I a construct of your imagination? Are we all projections within your dreamscape, playthings in your eyes? Did the M'arrillians spend hundreds upon hundreds of solans in this stinking pit because **you **needed a foe, an antagonist, for your imaginary trek through Perim?}

"I-I didn't..." I try to protest, but the things he's saying...

{Who are you, Human? A lonely man? One so bored and weak that he has to create a power fantasy at night?}

"It's... not a power fantasy..." I breathe.

{You are correct, it's not.}

Huh?

Aa'une's voice gets harsher. {You're not dreaming. It makes no sense. You're a Human somehow sent to Perim, that's all.}

I try to wet my throat with my saliva. "Fourteenth life here-"

{Those other thirteen lives? Obviously not real. Delusions of yours that made you feel special, that's what they were.}

"The threads you saw in my head," I mutter.

{A latent psychic power, it has to be that.} Aa'une growls. {You cannot be a dreamer! I won't accept it! I'm not some fantasy in another creature's mind!}

...What kind of world is this? What will happen to Perim with Aa'une in such a state? I can't let this continue. I'm sorry, everyone. I have to die, I have to start this all over.

I take a deep breath. "Then why are you so scared of me?!" I shout painfully. "If I'm not the keystone of reality, then why aren't you speaking with me face to face?!"

I see a light appear in the center of the cell. It expands slowing, taking Aa'une's shape. Then the light fades, revealing Aa'une floating in front of me. His eyes open and glare at me, and he says aloud, "Very well, then. I'll speak in the flesh."

I feel my courage evaporate. What am I doing?! Am I really trying to provoke-? Yes, I am. "You know what's going to happen," I say, "at least if you paid any attention to my memories of the show my dream is based on."

I see Aa'une clench needle-like teeth together. "I just said it's not a dream," he growls ferociously.

"I'm fairly certain it is." I force myself to chuckle. "Perim is simply too fantastic for it be real."

Aa'une folds his arms. "Is this really why you wanted to speak in person?"

I glare at Aa'une as hard as I can. "No. I wanted to tell you what's going to happen. You're going to lose the war, and you're most likely going to die very painfully."

"Because that's what your show says," Aa'une grins, "but this obviously is not the show. So many things have changed, haven't they? Phelphor acquired the assistance of the Danians, not the Underworlders. The locks on the Doors opened one by one, not simultaneously. Those and so many other things are either different or were not present at all."

My chest tightens as I begin to speak. "Then why are you too much of a **coward** to kill me?"

I see it! Right there in his eyes! I touched a nerve!

Aa'une glowers at me. "Be... Because you need to be punished for your arrogance."

...He's not going to kill me. He knows that I'm dreaming, but he's trying to lie to himself.

Aa'une's eyes glow brighter. "You will continue to live until I find proof of your deceit! **Show me your mind!**"

-[]-[]-[]-

_******Age 13:**_

"Jeffrey!" I scream. "**Run!**"

I burst into the living room. There's my younger brother, sitting by the fireplace. He looks up at me, a confused expression on his face.

"He's coming!" I shout, rushing over to him and pulling him to his feet. "You need to get out of here!"

I hear the door slam open, and I spin around. There's the man, dressed completely in black. There's a gun in his hand.

I step in front of my brother and spread my arms. "You're not getting him!"

I hear an explosion from the man's hand, and a gust of wind passes by my ear. I act quickly, turning along with the wind, pushing Jeffrey aside, towards the back door. Please run!

Jeffrey bolts for the door and leaves the house, while I slump to the ground. The bullet missed me, I know that, but if I play dead, the man will try to follow Jeffrey. Then I can get him while his back is turned.

I feel something press against the back of my head, and it feels like my heart stopped beating. I hear a click-

Everything turns into pain and fire as the bullet blasts through the back of my skull, and then everything starts to turn fuzzy and gray...

I open my eyes. My bedsheets are wet with sweat. I throw my blanket off and sit up. I can feel blood running down the back of my head and my neck. I try to wipe some off with my hand, but I feel nothing.

I lie back down and take slow breaths. Jeffrey's not in any danger, it was just a dream...

-[]-[]-[]-

_******Age 8:**_

"Mor," I ask while stirring the last bit of my cereal, "why do people say that you should pinch yourself to see if you're dreaming?"

"Because you can't feel pain in your dreams," my mother says.

"Oh," I mutter. I scoop up the rest of my cereal and eat it, then put my spoon in my bowl. "Tak for mad." Thank you for the food in Danish.

"Velbekomme," Mom says back, meaning you're welcome.

"Må jeg blive undskyldt fra bordet?" May I be excused from the table?

"Ja du kan." Yes you may.

I pick up the bowl and put it in the sink. "I pinched myself in my dream last night, and it hurt."

Mom raises her eyebrows at me. "Oh?"

"Many things hurt in my dreams..."

-[]-[]-[]-

**_Age 20:_**

Lucid dreaming, lucid dreaming, where can I find instructions on how to have and maintain a lucid dream? I had one a few years ago! I knew I was dreaming, and I made myself float off the ground before I woke up!

Let's see... avoid closing your eyes and deliberately opening them in the dream, try spinning in place- tried that one already. Look for inconsistencies. Heh, how did I not know I was dreaming when I realized that there was a **pillar of water** down the center of the school?

Dreamcrafting? That sounds neat. Maybe I'll try it out-

-[]-[]-[]-

_******Time 14:**_

My head hurts so much...

I open my eyes. There's Aa'une, floating in front of me. He looks like he just witnessed a nuclear bomb drop on the city of M'arr.

"No," he breathes, and he vanishes in a flash of light.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: ****The Realization**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

******If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	73. The Realization

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Realization**

-[]-[]-[]-

Days pass. I don't know how many. I've lost track of the flow of time, and I don't have any frame of reference to reacquire it. Meals are few and far between, and more often than not it's already partly rotten. I don't have anywhere I can use the bathroom, so... yeah.

Aa'une rummages through my head from afar occasionally, pulling up memories of my past. He seems desperate to prove that I'm not dreaming, that the world isn't simply inside my head. He's stopped talking directly to me, which is a small comfort.

Today, whatever day it is, I hear a somewhat familiar psychic voice.

{have you noticed how distracted oligarch aa'une-}

{seems to be lately, yes i have, and i think it-}

{has something to do with this human, i thought so too}

I look up at the small window to my cell, and I see light blue skin past it.

{oligarchs k'yall and pah'ziq have also noticed, aa'une never seems to-}

{pray anymore, always giving another creature the honor}

{something has shaken him}

{he never smiles anymore either}

I try to call out, but my voice is raspy. "Twins?"

{the human called for us, what do-}

{we do, we aren't allowed to speak with-}

{anyone, but maybe he doesn't count}

{should we risk it}

{let us put our heads together and think}

I hear a soft wet slapping sound from beyond the cell.

{it is too dangerous, but maybe-}

{we could talk to each other about what he says-}

{and let him overhear us}

...Um, I guess that means they're listening. Of course, now I've forgotten about what I was going to-

{good cothica it smells bad in there}

{how could anyone-}

{survive in those conditions}

{we need to clean him up}

{is it allowed}

{i don't care, it isn't-}

{healthy, true, i will find a tub and you-}

{will get the sponges}

The light blue worms vanish from the window, leaving me rather confused.

-[]-[]-[]-

Some minutes later, one of the Twins gives me a sponge bath while the other scrubs the floor. Assuming that each worm is using the sponge closest to her and not the other, of course.

{what has aa'une been doing}

{leaving this human here to rot, apparently}

{he called him michael}

{he also called him prince osiris}

{prince of who}

{the mipedians}

{what's a mipedian}

{those reptile minions are mipedians}

{he's not a reptile}

{i know}

{so he's a mipedian prince who's-}

{not a mipedian, i guess}

There are Mipedians down here now. That's a depressing thought.

{phelphor's leading an army to mount pillar}

{what's mount pillar}

{no idea}

"Home of the Danians," I mutter.

{what's a danian}

{the bugs}

{they're so-}

{cute, i know}

"How do you two do that?" I ask. "Are you always reading each other's minds?"

The Twins stop scrubbing and turn their heads towards each other.

{finishing each other's-}

{sentences is what he's talking-}

{about, nobody has ever-}

{asked about that-}

{before, maybe we should-}

{risk talking to him, it's-}

{been so long since we've ever spoken-}

{to anyone besides ourselves}

The Twins float beside each other, their heads turn towards me, and in my mind I hear their voices overlap and blend together. {{hello, we are the twins,}} they say.

I discover that my jaw is hanging open. I close it quickly. "You two are actually the same creature." I say it as a statement, but it's more a question than that.

The worms lean their... I mean **its** heads together. {{we never imagined that anyone would see through our persona, our false face, it is refreshing to be wrong}}

"How does that work?" I ask. "One mind, two bodies, I mean." It's so great to actually talk to someone after who knows **how** long.

{{we are twins,}} Twins replies, {{hatched from the same egg, our minds fused since the days we fed from the same yolk, brothers or sisters we may call ourselves, but in the end there is no difference between us}}

"Then why do the two of you act so different?" I ask. "You argue with each other, for example, and you don't seem to share the same memories." Not to mention your discussion about whether I was male or female.

{{a facade, a part of our false face,}} Twins chuckles. She sways her bodies side to side. {{we are forbidden from speaking to others, and others do not speak to us, so who to speak with but ourselves}}

"Sounds awful," I mutter.

A light ignites in the center of the room, slowly growing. Twins' bodies shudder, then dive in different directions. The light takes Aa'une's shape, then turn into Aa'une himself.

Aa'une is looking at me at first, but then he glances at each of the Twins' bodies. "Twins, what are you doing here?"

Twins quickly says, {we are doing our job-}

{of cleaning up-}

{ever so obediently}

{i saw that this room was filthy-}

{and you, dear sister, suggested we take action-}

{before the prisoner takes ill from the waste}

{i hope oligarch aa'une isn't too-}

{angry with us}

Aa'une lets out a hiss and turns back to me. "You," he growls.

I try very hard to piss him off. "Vee, double-you, ex, why, zee."

Aa'une's eyes flare up, and I feel my heart freeze. Aa'une spits, "Twins, pay no mind to what is about to happen."

{i will obey oligarch aa'une}

{as will i}

Aa'une places a hand on my forehead-

-[]-[]-[]-

A spectral blue hand floats in black space, surrounded by thin threads.

{How useful can you be to me?} Aa'une mutters as his hand wanders through the void. {What can you let me see?}

The spectral hand grasps a thread-

-[]-[]-[]-

"This unexpected fifth tribe, the Humans, they are presenting a problem," I note. The muscles across my lateral lines flex in response to my annoyance, sending ripples along my body.

{K'yall-is-correct...} Pah'ziq says in that infuriatingly slow voice of his- no, hers- wait, his- it isn't important. {Their-knowledge-of-our-tribe-allows-them-to-accur ately-determine-who-among-their-own-tribes-are-mos t-likely-to-have-been-converted-to-our-side...}

"Making our attempts at planting spies fruitless," I elaborate before Pah'ziq takes another eternity to do so. "We need to face reality, Aa'une, our invasion is not progressing the way you had planned."

Aa'une folds his arms. His projected arms, I remind myself. Aa'une's real body lies sleeping at the bottom of the Deepmines. What I see is a biological puppet, a mass of muscle and blood and nerves that is **not** his true body. Not that it actually means anything to me.

Aa'une bares his teeth and growls, "We **need** spies among their armies! How are we to gather intelligence otherwise?"

{Not-through-minions...} Pah'ziq drones.

-[]-[]-[]-

Aa'une's hand releases the thread and takes a hold of another one-

-[]-[]-[]-

{Not-through-minions...} I think out loud.

K'yall flicks his tail in annoyance. "We may need to scale our endeavors back, work on controlling the Underworld before we try taking a hold on locations in the Overworld."

"It will take too long," Aa'une says bitterly. "The slower we attack, the more time our enemies have to find ways to defend against us."

{Do-we-have-any-more-reliable-means-of-gathering-i ntelligence...?} I ask Aa'une. K'yall being in charge mainly of manufacturing and myself more focused on civilian matters, the more militaristic Aa'une should be able to find an appropriate solution to his own problem. Sometimes all he needs are the right questions to be asked.

And it seems that was the correct one. Aa'une's eyes widen, and he unfolds his arms. "The dreamer," he whispers, and he disappears in a flash of light.

K'yall turns one of his three eyes at me. "Do you know what he means by the dreamer?"

{Not-a-clue...} I answer.

-[]-[]-[]-

I shake my head as Aa'une stops probing my mind. "No! You're not using me as-!"

Aa'une grabs my shoulders and presses me to the wall. "Anything that has ever happened, it's sitting inside your head," he says with a triumphant smirk. "I don't **need** spies if I have you!"

Aa'une, with unlimited access to any mind in Perim, past or present? I can't let that happen. I can't subject Perim to the whims of a nigh-omnipotent M'arrillian lord. And the only way I can stop him is...

I bite down on my tongue. Hard. Oh God, it hurts so much, but I can't stop. The only way I'll keep my mind out of Aa'une's hands is to die, and my movement is to restrained for me to do anything besides try to drown in my own blood.

Aa'une's smirk fades. "What are you doing?"

Twins makes both her bodies look at me. {{michael, what is-}} Then she stops, and her bodies tremble. {{oh}}

Goodbye for now, Perim... I'll do better next time.

"_**NO!**_" Aa'une screams. He presses a sharp finger against my forehead and-

_I release my hold on my tongue. That was unintelligent of me. Any harder and I might have bitten it right off._

_Aa'une takes his finger off my forehead. "Tell me who you are," he orders._

"_I am your loyal servant," I answer. As if there could be any other answer._

"_Tell me how you will serve me," Aa'une continues._

"_In any way that I can be of assistance," I reply._

_My oligarch grins widely, and he straightens to his full height. "Excellent. Twins, unlock his chains. Michael, we're going to do a little demonstration."_

_I smile widely. My master is pleased with me! Nothing in all of Perim could fill me with greater joy than this._

-[]-[]-[]-

_**up next: the humble manservant**_

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	74. the humble manservant

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**the humble manservant**_

-[]-[]-[]-

_Time holds no meaning. All I wish to do is serve Aa'une in whatever way I can. It's so easy to please him, all I need to do is let him look inside my head and see the strange stories that happen inside. When he's not doing that, he tells me to stay in a small room with a chair in it._

_Aa'une appears in front of me. So exciting! I wonder what he's looking for this time._

_He doesn't speak, never does. He places his hand on my head-_

-[]-[]-[]-

_And now a strange blue hand is floating through a strange expanse of white threads. {What plans are you making, Chaor?} Aa'une's voice sounds as the hand closes around a thread-_

-[]-[]-[]-

"We need to stop trying to take back Underworld City!" Lilth shouts, slamming her hands on the table between us.

"**No!**" I bellow, my claws digging into the wood of the table. "I will **not** let that traitorous slime Bloot hold my city!"

"And he **won't**," Lilth growls, "but we have a bigger threat to deal with."

Hah! As if **she** knew where we need to place our priorities. "The M'arrillians are cowardly invertebrates that rely on mass brainwashings to achieve anything, and you Humans have done a splendid job on reducing, sometimes **eliminating**, the casualties we suffer from those attacks. No, we should let the M'arrillians beat furiously against a stone wall and reclaim Underworld City."

"The ineffectiveness of the M'arrillian attacks are a ploy, Chaor," Lilth argues. "We may not be suffering from the attacks, but clearly neither are they. If they made even **one** focused effort on us with their full strength, they could wipe us out!"

The absolute **nerve** of this woman. I may need to demonstrate to her who **exactly** is the one with the power here, perhaps even tonight in bed...

"This sounds like another of your lead-ins to your 'run to the Overworlders and beg for help' ideas," I snarl. "There's nothing you can say to convince me to ask **Maxxor** for help."

"Then ask Austin!" Lilth cries out. "You know that ** he** respects you and would be more than willing to-"

"**Enough!**" I feel a chunk of the table tear away in my grip. "We attack the defenses Bloot set up around Underworld City tonight! Nothing you say can change that!"

Lilth gives me a scathing glare, then turns and walks out of the tent-

-[]-[]-[]-

_Aa'une removes his hand from my head. "Very good, servant," he grins at me. It's not a warm grin, but he's happy! Yay._

_Aa'une leaves, and I continue to sit in my room._

_{michael}_

_There's a voice in my head._

_{i see him, in here}_

_I look up. It's Twins. At least, one of them._

_{is he hurt}_

_{it appears not}_

_Ah, there's the other one._

_{he's been here too long}_

_{oligarch aa'une has become-}_

_{controlling, uncaring, freeing his-}_

_{secret weapon should remind him that-}_

_{he has a responsibility to ensure the safety of his tribe}_

_The worms float side by side._

_{{michael, aa'une has instructed us to speak with you}}_

_Hm? That's odd. Aa'une never sends other creatures to me._

_{{we have some questions to ask, and it would please our oligarch greatly if you answered us}}_

_Making Aa'une happy? I can't wait! "Okay," I say._

_{{who are you}}_

_That's easy. "I am Aa'une's loyal servant."_

_{{no. what is your name}}_

_My name? "M-Michael..." Arg, my head hurts..._

_{{and what is your other name}}_

_Another... name... "Osiris..."_

_{{which tribe are you from}}_

_The headache vanishes. "The M'arrillians, of course."_

_{{no, the one before that}}_

_Before...? Before... "The M... The Mipedians..."_

_{look at his eyes}_

_{his inner self is trying to break free}_

_Inner self...? How could I be anyone besides who I am?_

_{{who is your king}}_

_I open my mouth, but something's wrong. Aa'une isn't a king. "King... King... King Theb... Theb-sarr..."_

_{{and who is your family}}_

_My family? I have a family? Since when did I have a... Isis... Hera!_ **AUGH!**

Twins catches me as I fall off my chair. {{michael, is everything all right}}

"No! Nothing's all right!" I shout. Aa'une was using me as a weapon, a perfect spy! How could **anything** be all right! Isis! Hera! I've put them in danger! I've put **Perim** in danger! No!

{he's panicking}

{at least he isn't trying to-}

{kill himself, that's certainly a relief}

How long has this been happening?! How many days have passed! I need to get out of here! Before Aa'une can use me again!

I scramble to my feet "Which way do I go?" My voice is strained and dry.

{we don't know-}

{because we have never left-}

{except by the servants' door-}

{but it is always being watched}

Right, don't try to go out that way. "You don't know any other ways?"

{we see many doors-}

{including some we cannot go through-}

{but we don't know which doors lead out}

So I'm on my own...

{be quick-}

{and safe}

{we will make ourselves scarce-}

{so aa'une doesn't learn that you are gone using-}

{our memories of your escape}

Twins leaves quickly through the door. I take a few shallow breathes as I try to calm my nerves, then I peek into the hall.

Which way? **Which way?!**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The M'arr Populace**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	75. The M'arr Populace

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The M'arr Populace**

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm... not entirely certain I'm still in the palace, or whatever the building is called when the tribe is ruled by an oligarchy. Probably still a palace.

I've slipped past so many creatures and ducked through so many doors that I'm completely turned around. Several times I've thought that I made it outside when in reality I'd simply stumbled upon a large courtyard. What I wouldn't do for a map...

So now I'm creeping down another winding hallway. My nerves are completely shot, it feels like I've been wandering for hours. So many close calls, I can't even remember what happened and how many there were.

{It-seems-that-your-information-was-wrong...} a voice says slowly. Pah'ziq.

"Wrong?" Aa'une's voice asks incredulously. "That's impossible, my technique should be entirely foolproof." My heart skips a beat when I hear him. I'm close enough to **hear** him?!

"Then explain why Lord Van Bloot reports that Chaor and his army are presently retreating to the Overworld?" K'yall retorts.

"The Overworld?" Aa'une mutters dumbfoundedly.

"Directly to the Human-Overworlder Austin," K'yall adds.

"This is preposterous!" Aa'une roars. "Chaor would never go to any Overworlder for help!"

{So-your-secret-weapon-says... But-have-you-considered-that-maybe-your-secret-wea pon-has-been-fooled...?}

Fooled? My heart races. Someone outsmarted Aa'une! How the heck did they **do** that?! Not that I'm complaining.

"I'll see **exactly** what happened soon enough," Aa'une growls. I hear a hum of energy-

Crap! He's probably gone to where I was being held! He's going to know that I'm on the run!

{Prince-Osiris...}

I just about have a heart attack. I stay as still as I can.

{I'm-speaking-to-you...}

How did you know I was here?

{K'yall-can-hear-your-heart-beating...}

I'm doomed.

{How-pessimistic... We-know-that-Aa'une-has-been-using-you-as-a-crutch ... We-disapprove...}

...Did you send Twins to free me?

"In a sense," K'yall mutters with a chuckle. "They may or may not have already been thinking about it, and I may or may not have urged them to follow through with their thoughts. Her thoughts, their thoughts, the pronoun to use eludes me."

{The-proper-phrase-is-{his-thoughts}-in-this-case. ..}

"Is it that time of month again?" K'yall asks. "I swear, you and the rest of your breed have the strangest biology."

{We-are-trying-to-help-Prince-Osiris-escape...}

"That's right, we are." I hear K'yall clear his throat. "Keep going forward through that tunnel. A kha'rall guard is waiting for you at the end, but he is under **my** employment. There is a bundle of wood nearby. Pick it up and follow the kha'rall as if you were a minion."

...If they're telling the truth, I'm free. If they're lying, then regardless I've already been caught. "Thank you," I say hesitantly.

I hear a hum of energy, then a scream. "He's gone!" Aa'une sounds panicked and furious.

{Have-you-filed-a-missing-child-report...?}

"Of **course** I haven't, I mean my prisoner is gone!" Aa'une bellows.

"You were interrupting our conversation," K'yall says in an annoyed tone. "And no, Pah'ziq, I haven't because I'm certain I know where he's wandered of to."

{Then-why-tell-me-he-was-missing...?}

"Because he's bound to be hiding out in the residential catacombs," K'yall replies. "That would be your providence."

"You two are impossible!" Aa'une screeches. Another hum of energy.

I check to make sure I still haven't had a heart attack. It sounds almost certain that the other oligarchs are on my side. I hurry down the tunnel.

-[]-[]-[]-

The kha'rall I'm following looks like his body is made out of coal. "Hurry up, Human!" he shouts, his four legs marching quickly and his pincer-hands clicking in a threatening manner.

I pick up my pace. The bundle of wood isn't really that heavy, but it's certainly large and difficult to carry.

"Make way! Make way!" the kha'rall shouts. "Scaffolding wood coming through!"

The crowd in front of us parts. Nobody gives us a seconds glance, they simply continue doing whatever it is they're doing.

The kha'rall lowers his voice. "Act sick."

I don't even need to pretend. The stress had been threatening to make me throw up ever since we left the palace. I double over as if in pain, then puke up stomach acid for real.

The kha'rall jumps away from me. "Aw, gross! What are they thinking, sending me a sick servant?!"

A creature with a humanoid upper body and an eel-like tail swims through the air towards us. A fluidmorpher? "Is everything all right?"

"Of course not!" the kha'rall growls. "This minion got his sick all over me!"

The fluidmorpher looks up and down at the kha'rall's body. "You haven't gotten anything on-"

"Just take him and send me a new one!" He wrenches the bundle from my arms.

The fluidmorpher leads me away while the kha'rall continues to make a huge scene. The fluidmorpher whispers, "A team of chariots is being sent to support Lord Van Bloot. You're going to smuggle yourself out with the help of-"

"**What** do you think you are doing?" a chilling voice says nearby.

The fluidmorpher freezes, and my lungs seize up. I reflexively turn towards the voice.

There's Aa'une. It looks like electricity is rippling across his skin. "I **highly** suggest you don't insult me by trying to lie, creature."

The fluidmorpher timidly mutters, "Helping the Human escape the city..."

"I thought so." Aa'une raises his hand and- and the fluidmorpher simply slumps to the ground. "I'll deal with you later," Aa'une growls before turning to me.

I really should be running, but my legs won't respond. Aa'une points a finger at me _and suddenly everything is all better. I relax as I remember that my purpose is to make Aa'une hap-_

**_Augh!_**_ My leg! Why, master?! Why did you break my leg?!_

_Master lowers his steaming hand, the same hand that had fired a burst of light at me. "You're going to show me how the hell I got incorrect information out of you, then you're going to go up to your prison cell and chain yourself to the wall."_

"_Y-yes, master," I stammer through the pain._

_Aa'une extends his hand towards my forehead-_

-[]-[]-[]-

_Then he searches for and grabs a thread-_

-[]-[]-[]-

"It's exactly like the Overworlder Austin had predicted, Lord Chaor," H'earring tells me through the crystal. "Lord Van Bloot received a message from the oligarchy about the meeting you and Queen Lilth held, and he prepared the city for an attack."

I glance over at the all too smug Human-Overworlder and growl. "So you were right. Don't let it get to your head."

Lilth takes the crystal from my hand and says, "Very good, H'earring. Now, you should make yourself scarce. It's likely that whatever scrying method the M'arrillians are using will be used to discover our experiment, and that might put you in danger."

"I understand," H'earring says. "I'm out."

Lilth sets the crystal down. "So there is a distinct possibility that the M'arrillians can look everywhere now."

"Though not everywhere at once," Austin adds. "It's not omnipotence, thank God." He strokes his hand down his beard in a thoughtful gesture. "Now **how** are they doing it?"

I fold my arms and lean back in my seat. "Is it safe to speak anymore?" I grunt. "Or even **think**?" I swear, if the M'arrillians are looking into our minds remotely, then it could very well be the end of Perim.

"If they **could** look everywhere at once, then our experiment would have turned out differently." Austin shakes his head. "You do have a point, though. We may need to stand down, let other creatures lead our armies."

It takes all of my willpower not to bark out a protest.

"I know you haven't played the game or watched the show," Lilth says, "so I need to tell you that Tangath Toborn would not make a good choice."

"He was a popular creature back on Earth, I assume?" Austin asks. "If so, then yes, he's too high profile."

I lean forward and fold my fingers together. "I don't think we should be part of the selection process at all." It was **incredibly** difficult to say that. "If we make the choices, we might as well be telling the M'arrillians exactly who to focus on next-"

-[]-[]-[]-

_Aa'une screams incomprehensibly, and I find myself flying through the air. I land painfully against the wall. I look down and see a spike protruding through my stomach. Master shot me..._

"_Fleshshaper's Shanty," Aa'une growls, and a mugic floats into the air. "Restore my pawn."_

_A light surrounds me, and the spike crumbles away as flesh knits back together. The pain in my leg vanishes as the bone sets itself and fuses. He really **does** care about me!_

"_To your cell," Aa'une growls. "Chains on. **Now.**"_

_I hurry off to do my master's bidding._

-[]-[]-[]-

_**up next: the slippery mind**_

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	76. the slippery mind

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**the slippery mind**_

-[]-[]-[]-

_It's so heartbreaking to... see Master Aa'une so frustrated after looking at the stories inside my head. Limb-breaking, too, but of course master would see fit to punish me when I cannot accomplish whatever it is he wants me to do. This failure was... apparently worth breaking both my arms in two places each._

"_Fleshshaper's Shanty," Aa'une mutters as he floats out of my cell. I don't hear the rest of the chant._

_The strange black light fixes my arms, and I rest against the back wall... of my cell, waiting for when Master will next need me._

_A lot of time passes._

_{are you really a tool, michael}_

_It's the Twins again, though I do... not see them inside my cell. Maybe they are outside?_

_{or are you simply an obstacle}_

_An obstacle? Me? Have I been holding Master back?_

_{oligarch aa'une's battle plans are deteriorating-}_

_{and he is sending M'arrillians to their deaths needlessly}_

_{{k'yall and pah'ziq do not like this, and they have determined that you are the cause}}_

_No... I can't have failed Master._

_{{in your attempts to make your master happy, you have made him sad}}_

_No... **no!** How **dare** you_ tell me that I **augh!**

{escape, michael}

{be quick}

I glance at the chains keeping my wrists to the wall. They feel quite... loose. Perhaps my arms had slipped partly free when they were broken.

{run, you do not have much time-}

Silence.

My mind feels muddy, but the sudden stop in Twins's thoughts is chilling. I can't... worry about that, however. I... need to get out of here.

-[]-[]-[]-

This tunnel feels familiar...

"I **know** you're behind it!" Aa'une's voice roars. "I turn my back for an hour, and suddenly he's gone **again**! You **had** to have let him out!"

{Seeing-as-neither-of-us-possess-limbs...} Pah'ziq drones, {your-accusation-is-quite-amusing...}

...Here **again?**

Aa'une lets out a strangled cry. "Why?! Why are the two of you **sabotaging** me!"

"You are making us lose this war, Aa'une," K'yall growls. "You may be conquering location after location, but at immense costs. You are trying to fight in a way we simply do not have the personnel for!"

Aa'une lets out another wordless roar.

{Why...?} Pah'ziq asks. {Aa'une... why-continue-in-such-a-pointless-manner...?}

"War is about making the enemy **submit**," K'yall adds. "You seem keen on **annihilation**."

{Is-this-about-making-them-pay-for-locking-our-tri be-down-here...?} Pah'ziq sounds frustrated. {But-these-are-not-the-same-creatures... Two-thousand-solans-have-passd... Few-from-that-time-remain...}

Another roar from Aa'une, and then a hum of energy,

{Prince-Osiris...}

Of **course** they knew I was here-

"Run."

A light sparks into existence behind me.

...Oh crap.

I run.

A gray bolt of energy flies by my ear. I twitch in the opposite direction. Another bolt. Am I outrunning him? No, don't look back, look forward.

Tunnel exit! Leap through, stumble over an Underworlder minion. I'm so sorry! Keep running. Another gray bolt smashes against the wall behind me. Wow, Aa'une's aim is crap. Keep running!

"**Stop him!**" Aa'une roars.

Every servant and minion drops what it's holding. Oh crap. Run run run.

Which way? My mind is a blur, I can't remember. Go left. Another branch. Right. Kha'rall! Charge straight at it and dive between its legs and keep going.

Door. Locked. Dead end. No!

I turn around and press against the wall. My breath comes out in short gasps. There's the kha'rall, it looks like it's made of coral and pottery. Behind the kha'rall is a small army of minions. Behind them is Aa'une.

Everyone steps aside as Aa'une approaches. He looks murderous. Has he finally decided to kill me? No, he probably hasn't. I'm too terrified to think.

"Back to work, everyone," Aa'une orders in a hiss. The other creatures quickly hurry away.

I close my eyes. I feel Aa'une's hands grip my shoulders. I wait for my mind to stop belonging to me.

And wait...

...There's a soft breeze on my face. I open my eyes.

Aa'une's face is a foot away from mine. His eyes are narrow, his arms shake with barely controlled rage. His chest heaves, and his breath hits my face.

"You try my patience..." he growls. "I **know** that you are trying it. Your attempts to escape serve a double purpose. Either you succeed, or you fail and die in the process, or I catch you and kill you unthinkingly."

Aa'une is too close to me. I don't like this. I try to squirm away, but Aa'une simply holds me firmly against the wall.

"The physical punishments I have given you don't seem to be having any effect," Aa'une growls, "and neither does bending your will with my powers."

Aa'une puts his face closer to mine. All I can see are his glowing eyes.

"I'm going to break you," Aa'une hisses, "one way or another." He presses his forehead against mine, and his eyes widen. "You may be a dreamer, but you are not God."

My voice shakes as I mutter, "But I never said I was-"

A blinding pain-

-[]-[]-[]-

The next thing I realize, I'm back in the prison cell. I'm not chained the same way as before, this time with my wrists bound together and raised above my head.

Aa'une in in the cell with me, leaning against the prison door. His crown is missing, as well as the strange crest that's usually around his chest and the golden bracers on his arms. He's rubbing his knuckles.

"Good... You're finally awake." Aa'une's voice sounds dead. He stops leaning against the cell door and floats towards me.

I try to scoot away, but I'm already against the wall.

"You have a slippery mind," Aa'une growls. "A strong enough emotion, and brainwashing simply fails. At least, brainwashing of the M'arrillian variety."

Oh no.

Aa'une launches a fist at my stomach. I double over as air escapes my lungs.

"This is your fault," Aa'une says, punching again. "If you would just," punch, "listen to me," punch, "and do what I say," punch, "I wouldn't have to do this."

I think Aa'une broke one of my ribs...

"Why are you making me hurt you?" Punch. "You don't like this, and neither do I."

Yeah, right.

Punch. "But you won't listen." Punch.

I close my eyes and just take the blows. He's a dream, a smattering of chemical and electric signals in my brain given form. He's a crystal thread, a spot on a ball made of diamond.

Eventually the punching stops. I wait a while, then curiously open my eyes.

Aa'une is undoing his loincloth. The golden fabric falls to the ground.

My heart freezes. My lungs seize up. Wake up, Michael! **Wake up!**

Aa'une leans over me, placing a hand against the wall near my head, while the other hand strokes his glowing member. "Let's see if you'll try to run after **this**," he growls.

I scream as Aa'une prepares his body.

I scream as he forces me against the wall.

I scream and I cry and I beg.

And Aa'une doesn't listen as he claims me.

-[]-[]-[]-

Aa'une cleans himself up. He opens the door and leaves.

He had taken off my chains. He left the door open. He hasn't set guards. He's **daring** me to try to escape again.

I curl up into a ball and cry.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Potential Rest of My Life**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	77. The Potential Rest of My Life

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Potential Rest of My Life**

-[]-[]-[]-

Time passes. Days blur together, then weeks.

I stopped taking escape opportunities. I was always caught, and afterwords Aa'une would force himself on me in punishment. When I stopped trying to leave, those punishments stopped... for a while. Eventually other behaviors were punished that way.

"So, what have we learned about trying to starve yourself?" Aa'une smirks as he readjusts his loincloth.

I say nothing. I simply curl up in the corner and tremble.

Aa'une sighs and turns toward the cell door. To the kha'rall in the room, he says, "Feed that slop to someone else. I don't think our guest is hungry anymore."

The kha'rall, this one made of blue glassy coral, slowly nods. His eyes are wide with shock at what he'd witnessed. "U-understood..."

Aa'une exits the cell and leaves the door open. The moment he's out of sight, I stop resisting the urge to vomit.

The kha'rall steps away from me quickly as I empty my stomach of glowing liquid mixed with acid. I just can't stop vomiting, and long after it's all gone my stomach is still trying to expel its contents.

The kha'rall sets down the bowl of food I had refused to eat, then carefully steps over to me. There's a pained expression on its monstrous face as it looks down at my shaking form. "Nobody deserves that," he mutters.

**Now** I feel the tears come. My arms almost give out, and I drag myself away from the puddle of puke before collapsing on dry ground.

The kha'rall looks over his shoulder at the cell door, then he steps closer. "Shh shh shh..." he whispers, placing a hand-pincer over my mouth. "Close your eyes... I'm going to make it go away..."

I can't close my eyes. I stare at the kha'rall.

The kha'rall puts his other hand-pincer against my throat. I can feel how sharp it is. "He won't be able to hurt you any-"

The kha'rall's body freezes, and his eyes go wide. Then his body begins to vibrate, and-

And his head explodes in a rain of bluish-gray gore...

The creature's body slumps sideways, pinning me to the ground. My breathing has stopped. I look at the cell's exit.

There's Aa'une, pointing at the kha'rall's body with a furious look on his face. He glances at me, then turns and floats away.

-[]-[]-[]-

Smaller and smaller actions start getting punished harshly. Eventually, it doesn't matter what I've been doing, Aa'une simply uses my body regardless. He doesn't even pretend he's punishing me anymore, and the language he uses shows it.

I'm still used as Aa'une's secret spying weapon, multiple times a day, but I've stopped caring. Every time I see him, I silently pray that he'll break my limbs or beat me rather than... that.

{prIncE OsIrIs?} a voice says outside my cell.

The voice shakes me out of me thoughts. It's not Aa'une's voice. I look at the exit to see what looks like a large gray jellyfish.

I don't answer the chieftain, if that is indeed what it is. I simply look down at the ground again.

{OsIrIs, lOOk At mE.}

I look up in time to see a gray bolt of energy _and then wait eagerly for my instructions._

_{OsIrIs, stAnd Up. I'm gEttIng YOU OUt Of hErE.}_

_I try to stand up, but my legs feel weak. "I can't," I croak. My throat is so dry..._

_Master floats over to me and wraps a tentacle around my arm. {Up YOU gO,} Master grunts as he lifts me. {hUrrY, I'm gIvIng YOU tO thE mIpEdIAns.}_

_If that makes Master happy, then of course I'll do what he-_

_Master slumps to the_ ground in a heap, a knife sticking through his body. My mind is free from his influence, but without his assistance I crumble back to the ground.

There's Aa'une, floating over me and the chieftain's dead body. "Trying to escape again?" he sneers.

"N-no!" I stammer weakly. "He was using his brainwashing powers-!"

"I don't give a f***," Aa'une growls, grabbing my shoulders and pressing me to the ground. Then he grins. "Poor choice of words, actually. I should simply say I don't care, because obviously I **am** going to give you a f*** for trying to leave."

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to make my senses dead to the world. Don't look, don't listen, don't feel. But I can't ignore Aa'une violating me, his savage grunts and firm grip, the feral look of ecstasy written on his face-

An explosion, a spray of transparent M'arrillian blood, and suddenly there's a huge metal spike jutting out of Aa'une's chest. He looks down at the spike in shock, then disappears in a flash of light, leaving me lying limply on the ground.

A Mipedian appears above me, along with several other creatures. A rough voice asks, "Did we kill him?"

A male Human's voice replies, "I doubt it. That looked like Aa'une's projection form from the card game. Most likely that even if we did kill him, that wasn't his real body."

The rough voice grunts, and a Mipedian's face comes into focus above me.

It's Prince Mudeenu's face.

...If Aa'une is trying to toy with me, he made a mistake. There's no way in hell Prince Mudeenu would lift a finger to try to get me out of the Deepmines. That's some lazy sensory manipulation.

Another Human voice says, "Did I really see what I thought I saw?"

Mudeenu grunts, "If you're talking about Aa'une f***ing Michael, then yes."

"You were **supposed** to tell me that I was mistaken," the Human groans.

I feel myself get picked up by a pair of powerful arms. "He looks too weak to move by himself. Malvadine, take my pyroblaster. I'm going to carry him."

"And this thing?" a Mipedian says while kicking the dead body of the chieftain who had tried to help me.

"Don't... do that," I croak. "He was... trying to help me..." Illusion or no, that Mipedian needs to show that M'arrillian some respect.

"He sounds awful," a Human says.

Another Mipedian says, "I've lost contact with our muge."

"Damn it," Mudeenu growls. "Okay, soldiers, we're fighting out way out!"

I roll my head to the side and-

There's Isis, standing right there, all her red-scaled beauty encased in leather armor. She has a look of extreme pain on her face. "What **happened** to you?" she asks as she strokes my face.

"Please don't ask..." I mutter, reaching out to touch her face.

"Who's Osiris talking to?" someone asks.

Can't you all see Isis standing right there? Then again, of course you wouldn't if you're all hallucinations. Still, I'm glad Isis is along for this imaginary rescue.

"I don't think he's entirely sane right now- on your six!"

The Mipedian spins around and throws a blast of air at a M'arrillian that had been sneaking up behind him.

Mudeenu takes a breath and roars, and another group of M'arrillians are flung backwards into a wall.

A Human swings an electrified sword at a kha'rall, even though the blade bounces off the creature's armor, the lightning does the job of disabling the coral soldier.

Fighting all around me. There's Malvadine, cutting a path with the pyroblaster, there's Isis, hiding behind a pillar and firing a liquilizer blindly around the corner. A Human I don't recognize sticks a knife into a fluidmorpher's throat.

A voice bellows, shaking the walls. "Kill the intruders! Don't let them take the prisoner!"

"**Told** you he wasn't dead," a Human says.

"Shut it," Mudeenu growls as he kicks a chieftain in the face.

"Minions!" a Mipedian shouts. A small army of blank-eyes Mipedians are running towards us.

Mudeenu shouts, "Nonlethal blows only!"

The fight rages, and it slowly dawns on me. I'm not imagining this. This is a real rescue. At once I'm filled with joy and terror. We could escape... or everyone here will die or be taken captive.

I do the only thing I can do in my state. I close my eyes and pray.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Rescue**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	78. The Rescue

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Rescue**

-[]-[]-[]-

My rescuers fight through M'arr, while Aa'une's verbal and mental shouts order creatures to stop us. Some M'arrillians do try to fight, but I notice that many more are simply fleeing for their lives.

A gray bolt of energy flies overhead, then another. A swarm of beings seemingly made of energy descend from above.

"Mind clasps on!" a Human shouts while putting a copper ring much like a tiara on his head. The others do so, Mudeenu awkwardly holding me with one arm as he puts his on. One of the gray bolts streaks towards a Mipedian, then bounces off seemingly empty air.

"Vehicle!" a Mipedian shouts, pointing down an alley.

I look down the alley while the soldiers rush down. The vehicle is basically a floating fridge truck, meant for transporting food. "Not fast enough..." I croak. I could **walk** faster than it if I had the strength.

A Human kneels down next to the vehicle's exposed engine and pokes around. "Give me two minutes," he says, slipping his backpack off his shoulders.

Mudeenu sets me down on the ground, then turns to the approaching M'arrillians. His hands crackle with red lightning as he rushes at them.

On one side, soldiers holding the line. On the other, a Human and a Mipedian tinkering with the truck. And next to me...

"Everything's going to be all right, Michael," Isis says as she runs a hand through my hair.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I whisper.

Isis gives me a pained grin. "Me too."

There's a small explosion above us, and I feel small bits of stone fall everywhere. Mudeenu bellows, "We need transport **now**!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" the Human working on the truck calls out.

"Work faster!" Mudeenu roars.

A gray bolt of energy streaks overhead and bounces off the Human near the truck, and his mind clasp turns from copper to rusty green. The Mipedian with him turns and says, "We just lost a mind clasp here!"

"We don't have anymore!" came the reply.

Another gray bolt flies by, and the Mipedian barely blocks it from hitting the Human with an outstretched hand.

The Human shouts, "Everyone in!"

I'm suddenly lifted up by Mudeenu, and everyone starts cramming into the back of the truck. Blasts of water, ice, and energy fly by, smashing against the side of the vehicle as the engine sparks to life.

A Mipedian slams the back door closed and asks, "How fast is this going to go?"

The Human grits his teeth. "Faster than I'd like."

"How the hell can it go **faster** than you'd-?"

"Hang on!" The Human places his hand on a small circle on the front of the truck.

The truck leaps forward, and I suddenly discover what it would probably feel like if an elephant sat on my chest. Everyone not in a seat slides to the back of the truck as it accelerates and lifts into the air.

There's a sudden jolt throughout the vehicle, and it feels like a punch to the guts. "What was that?" Mudeenu shouts over the roar of the engine.

"That was a wall," the driver shouts back.

Another jolt knocks the air out of me.

"Another wall!"

Another jolt.

"Stop hitting walls!" someone shouts. "Fly over them!"

"I can only get this maybe ten feet into the air!"

"Then a gate or something!"

"We're being chase by maybe a thousand M'arrillians, including Aa'une, and you want me to take the time to find a **gate**?!"

There's a pause, then someone yells, "Drive through the walls!"

I'm so glad M'arrillian vehicles are built like tanks.

There's an earsplitting screech, and suddenly the rear door of the truck begins to crack. "Grab a hold of something!" a Mipedian shouts.

Mudeenu wraps an arm around my waist and digs his claws into the wall of the vehicle just before the door gives way. There's wind rushing through the interior now, and there's a clear view of glow of the truck's thrusters and the- oh my God... There are so many M'arrillians chasing us, flying over the buildings and sending attacks down at us.

"I don't think this thing's fast **enough**!" someone bellows as the road behind us explodes.

"Ramp!" the driver shouts.

"What?!"

"**Ramp!**"

The truck shakes and tilts up. The smooth road turns into a staircase. Everyone grabs a firmer hold of the interior of the truck.

Suddenly the ground is far below us, and the truck is hurtling through the air.

"Are you **insane**!" Mudeenu shouts. "We're an easy target up here!"

"It was this or crash!" the driver bellows.

I wonder if this would make more sense if I was **anyone** **else** right now.

"Incoming!" a Mipedian roars.

A torrent of water suddenly blasts through the broken rear door. My vision is fuzzy, I can't breathe. Are we falling?

The water recedes, and everyone's coughing for breath. I blink and look around. Someone's missing-

I hear Isis scream. She's hanging outside the truck! "I'm slipping!" she shrieks.

"Isis!" I screech. I squirm in Mudeenu's grip. "Mudeenu! Isis is falling out!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mudeenu gives me a baffled stare.

I point frantically. "Isis! Catch her!"

Isis struggles to keep her grip. Everyone turns to look at her, then at me. "What are you pointing at?" someone calls out.

Can't they **see** her **right there?!** "Hang on, Isis!" I feel something tear in my throat when I shout, but I don't care, she's going to fall!

"Isis isn't here!" Mudeenu shouts.

The truck jolts as a frozen spear smashes against it, and tiny shards of ice trail behind us. Isis loses her grip with one of her hands. "**Help!**" she screams.

"She's right **there**!" I screech. "Grab her! _**GRAB HER!**_"

"Isis is at Al Mipedim, Osiris!" someone shouts.

They're all blind! No, they're in league with the M'arrillians! "Isis! Hang on! I'm coming!" I try to squirm from Mudeenu's grip.

A stream of electricity smashes into the roof of the truck. The vehicle shakes, and several people inside almost lose their grips. Isis dangles in the wind and-

"_**NOOO!**_" I bellow as Isis's grip fails. "_**ISIS!**_"

Isis screams as she falls, her form appearing smaller as she gets farther. The scream suddenly cuts short moments later.

I... I feel hollow... No... **No!** "**No! No no **_**NO!**_" I try to wrench free from Mudeenu's grip. "She was your **sister**, Mudeenu! And you let her **fall**!"

"Get a hold of yourself!" Mudeenu roars.

"Let go of me, you **fucking bastard!**" Isis! Isis! **Isis!**

"Someone get him under control!" Mudeenu shouts.

I don't see who did it. All I know is that I feel a sharp pain in my leg, and the world slowly starts to fade black.

...Isis...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Image**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	79. The Image

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Image**

-[]-[]-[]-

A male Human voice drifts through my foggy mind. "Physically he's a ton healthier than I expected him to be, considering the conditions of his environment all this time. That much untreated water and spoiled food, he's lucky he didn't catch one of any number of deadly diseases in the Deepmines."

A Mipedian's voice follows, saying, "According to our informant, Aa'une was going to great lengths to ensure Michael's-"

"A**hem**."

"...Prince... Osiris's... survival," they voice grudgingly corrects. It's Mudeenu's voice. My blood boils when I recognize it.

I struggle to open my eyes. Above me is a ceiling made of cloth. A tent? Doesn't matter. I slowly turn my head in the direction of the voices.

There's Mudeenu, out of his armor. A doctor is putting his right arm in a cast.

The doctor says, "You mentioned possible psychological issues earlier?"

"Yes," Mudeenu grunts. "He was absolutely convinced that Isis was with us. He went absolutely ballistic when, well, when he hallucinated her dying, I guess."

"Understandable," the doctor mutters.

I clench my fists. I can feel my arms shake. They're pretending nothing happened. Mudeenu just **ignored** Isis, they **all** did.

"He wouldn't listen to reason," Mudeenu says as he flexes the fingers of his right hand. "As if I would let her accompany me to the Deepmines."

The doctor steps away from Mudeenu and studies the cast. "What should I expect when Prince Osiris wakes up?"

Mudeenu rolls his eyes. "The worst. Paranoia, violent or suicidal behavior, a refusal the listen to evidence against his delusions-"

"You let her die..." I mutter. My throat feels like coarse sand.

The doctor turns towards me. "Osiris!" he says. "You're awake!"

I slowly push myself to a sitting position. I glare at Mudeenu. "She was a foot away, screaming for help, and you ignored her."

Mudeenu sighs and looks at the doctor. "See what I mean?"

The doctor has his eyebrows raised. "Princess Isis is perfectly fine," he says. "She's on her way here to see you."

"Shut the hell up," I growl. "I watched her fall. **He** watched her fall. They **all** did."

"Please be reasonable!" the doctor says with alarm in his voice. "There's no way that-!"

"Your own **sister**, Mudeenu!" I snap. I pull myself to the edge of the bed and swing my feet down. "What, was it because she was married to me? Is that why you let her die?"

Mudeenu stands up and glares ferociously at me. "How **dare** you even **imply** I would let Isis get hurt!"

I can't believe Mudeenu can stand there and **lie** like that. I push myself to my feet. I'm going to wring that Mipedian's **neck**.

The doctor takes a step towards me. "You shouldn't be standing up right now! You need to rest!"

I swat the doctor aside and swing a fist at Mudeenu. My punch lands on Mudeenu's chest... and does nothing.

Mudeenu sighs and pushes me down on the bed. "Don't hurt yourself," he growls. "Isis will be hear any moment, and you'll see she's perfectly fine."

I grit my teeth. "I'll find out, all right. Is there a mind-reader here?"

Mudeenu rolls his eyes. "Just go to sleep-"

"Get me a mind-reader **now**!" I shout. My throat hurts from the strain.

The doctor backs away. "I think he's snapped," he mutters.

Mudeenu squeezes his eyes shut. "I shouldn't have to deal with this!" he snarls. Then he shouts towards the tent flap, "Enre-hep! Get in here!"

Moments pass, and an old looking Mipedian in tattered light-blue robes enters. "What is it?" the creature asks wearily.

I stare at the Mipedian. A muge probably. Piercing through his hood are a pair of downward curving horns, and peeking out from around his aged face are what appear to be braids of hair. Jade green bracelets adorn his wrists and ankles, and around his neck hangs a large gold medallion.

Mudeenu growls. "I need you to read my mind of an event so I can prove-"

"No," I cut in. "Read my mind."

Everyone stares at me. Then the doctor sighs, "He cracked, just humor him."

Enre-hep sighs and stands in front of me. He places a finger on each of my temples-

-[]-[]-[]-

Sharp crystal shards are being flung around in hurricane force winds, large boulders of crystal striking against each other and creating showers of crystal sand, and crystal sand clumps spiraling around each other until they fuse into large boulders of crystal. Lighting blasts intermittently through the air.

{...youR minD iS verY troubleD...} Enre-hep's voice mumbles.

Stop enjoying the scenery and find the center.

A spectral gold hand materializes within the storm. It waves, and several pieces of crystal bloom into flowers. The hurricane of diamond continues while the flowers slowly settle on a black lake.

{flowerS? A minD haS neveR lookeD likE **thiS** tO mE beforE...}

Which flower is Isis? I focus on her face, and one of the crystal flowers quivers in the water. Touch that one.

{iF yoU insisT,} Enre-hep mutters uncertainly as his spectral hand approaches the blossom.

**Now** I'll see where Isis really is, I think to myself.

The spectral hand's finger brushes against the topmost petal-

-[]-[]-[]-

There's the camp. Oh, if I could run faster than this wagon I would do so right now! My heart races as I search the tents for the one that the Human doctor always sets up. That's the tent **he** will be in. After so long, Michael, you've finally come back!

The Mipedian at the reins turns around and says, "Please be careful, Your Highness. There's talk that Prince Osiris's mind snapped while in the Deepmines-"

I send the nastiest glare I can manage at the driver, a silent order to shut his trap. I **know** he won't have fully recovered yet, but I absolutely must see him!

As soon as the wagon is moving slower than I can run, I leap out and dart across the rocky ground. There's the tent, the large white one. He's inside there. He's finally back-

-[]-[]-[]-

The spectral hand recoils. {whaT?}

I don't care about the muge's confusion. All that's important is that Isis is alive. She **didn't** go into the Deepmines, of course not. Of **course** I didn't really see her fall to her death, it was a hallucination. A hallucination within a dream.

{A dreaM?} The gold spectral hand rubs its fingers together. {aH, oF coursE... thaT woulD explaiN mucH.}

The hurricane of crystal is ebbing away. Lightning stops crashing. Diamond blossoms are floating down from the sky...

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep is staring at me with what appears to be awe, but that's not important. I turn to the tent flap. Any moment now, any moment.

Mudeenu growls, "Well, Enre-hep? What did you see?"

The brushes the backs of his hands with his palms and says, "I saw..." A pause, then Enre-hep mutters, "I saw how fractured his mind was, and I saw exactly how it could be repaired."

"Repaired?" asks the doctor. "You mean you-"

"**I** didn't repair His Highness's mind," Enre-hep says with a wave of his hand. He points at the tent flap. "**She** did."

At that moment, Isis bursts into the room.

I feel an ache in my chest. A **good** ache. The kind of ache that makes a person glad that he's alive. The ache spreads through my body, and I feel dizzy under the force of this sensation.

"Michael," Isis breathes.

"Isis," I whisper. I feel like I'm about to faint from joy.

"Catch him!" the doctor shouts as the world spirals away...

-[]-[]-[]-

I can't see, but it doesn't matter. I can't hear, but it doesn't matter. I can't feel, but it doesn't matter. Somewhere out there in this senseless void, Isis is with me.

I made it out. Those days of torture are behind me.

...No, they're not. As long as Aa'une's trying to take over, none of that's behind me. I won't be completely safe from him until this war is over, until Aa'une is wiped off the face of Perim. **Nobody** will be safe until then.

Don't worry about Aa'une right this moment, Michael... Right now, I need to rest...

Right now... I need to go home...

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act IV: Lucidity**_** is complete!**

_**Act V: Warlord**_** is coming!**

**Up next: The Return to Al Mipedim**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	80. The Return to Al Mipedim

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act V: Warlord**_

**The Return to Al Mipedim**

-[]-[]-[]-

I open my eyes.

I'm lying on a soft mattress. A warm blanket covers me up to my neck. A pillow raises my head a little.

The floor jolts a little, and for a moment I wonder why. Wooden floor, cloth ceiling... ah, right, a wagon. Most likely one headed for Al Mipedim.

I can feel that I'm not alone. I turn my head to right and see a beautiful red-scaled Mipedian woman lying on the wooden floor beside me. She's wearing a plain white dress, wrinkled and dusty. It doesn't detract from her appearance at all.

The Mipedian smiles when I look at her. "Hello, Michael," she says.

"Isis," I whisper. It hurts to speak any louder. Earlier I was shouting at the top of my lungs, but rage and adrenaline had been dulling the pain back then. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too," Isis whispers back, tears welling up in her eyes. "We never got to say goodbye."

"No, we didn't," I mutter. My heart feels heavy.

Isis frowns, and her hands tense up. "I was so scared when we didn't hear from you. Terrified when we heard that the Doors had been opened."

I raise a finger to my lips. "Shh..."

Isis stops talking. There's pain in her expression.

I lower my finger. "Let's not talk about painful things right now. Later, maybe, but now, no."

Isis cracks a smile. "All right, then."

Isis had been pregnant before the world went to hell. "Boy or girl?" I ask.

"Boy," Isis smiles. "Our little Jupiter."

"I can't wait to meet him," I say. "And how's Hera? Mugical master of Al Mipedim yet?"

"No," Isis chuckles. "She **is** casting mugic now, though."

"Already?" I laugh. "She really **is** a prodigy. Casting mugic at twelve solans old? Wow!"

Isis's smile falters. "Hera's... not twelve."

I cringe. "Sorry, I completely lost track time. Thirteen?"

Isis slowly shakes her head.

I can feel chills run down my back. "Fourteen?"

"Hera is twenty solans old, Michael," Isis whispers.

Twenty? The word hits me like a ton of bricks. "Th-that's not possible," I stammer.

The pain has returned to Isis's face. "You were in the Deepmines for ten solans, to the very day. Today's your seventieth solan."

Ten solans, five years. That long... I missed all of Hera's lessons, missed Jupiter growing up. I'm never going to hold little baby Jupiter in my arms. I don't even know what he **looks** like yet, and I'm already mourning the loss of all that time...

"I'm so sorry," Isis says. There are tears streaming from her eyes.

"It's not your fault," I mutter.

Dare I look? Ten solans... What do **I** look like after that long? I push my hand out from under the blanket and look at it. **Really** look at it.

I can't believe I hadn't noticed before. My fingers are thin, and my skin is incredibly pale. I take my entire arm out from under the blanket, and I gasp at the sight. I'm skin and bones. I can easily wrap my entire hand around my upper arm.

I push myself into a sitting position with great difficulty, and I push the blanket all the way off my body. The sight of my naked body makes my heart freeze. I'm a living skeleton. I can see the ripples of my ribs, the crest of my sternum. My abdomen is narrow, and my legs are spindly. Patches of my body are covered with a brittle coating of stark white hair.

H-how can Isis look at me without feeling nauseated? How am I going to recover? Do I even want to know what my face looks like?

...Yes, I do. "I need a mirror," I whisper.

Isis looks like she doesn't want me anywhere **near** a mirror, but she grimaces and reaches behind her anyway. "It's better that I'm here when you see," she mutters as she turns the reflective surface towards me.

...My eyes are sunken, and there are dark circles surrounding them. My cheeks are thin, giving me a face shape almost like a vampire's. The hair on my scalp and chin is long, thin, and white as snow.

I was down there for ten solans. I **look** like I was down there for a **hundred**. It's a good thing I wasn't holding the mirror, or I would have dropped it.

Isis lowers the mirror. "I know it's a shock, but you'll recover." Her voice shakes a little as she speaks.

"I hope so," I mutter as I lie back down.

I should be thankful. I've been fed, don't know **how** they managed that while I was a nutcase, so I'm not starving. I'm not decrepit enough that I can't move. Overall, I'm doing better than I really expected to be.

Isis crawls over and kneels beside me. "I still love you," she whispers, "no matter what you look like."

I feel a smile crawl over my face. "I never doubted you about that," I whisper back, "but it's wonderful to hear you say it. I love you, too."

Isis grins, and she lowers her face towards me. I feel my heart start to pound harder as she approaches. Her eyes close as her lips press against mine, and she takes a hold of my shoulders-

-\/-\/-\/-

_He takes a hold of my shoulders and presses my back against the ground. Aa'une is above me now, his eyes wild, his mouth in a wicked open-mouthed snarl. The lights have all been extinguished, so the only light comes from Aa'une himself. His skin shines, his eyes and mouth glow slightly more, but the majority of the light comes from his glowing erect penis._

"_Apparently you never learn," he growls. "How many more times are you going to try to escape?"_

_I squirm and kick, but I'm not strong enough. Aa'une pins me down. I beg for him to stop, but he ignores me, and my voice breaks into a scream as Aa'une thrusts his-_

-\/-\/-\/-

I realize that I'm screaming. Isis has backed away, a look of terror on her face. "Did I hurt you?!" she cries out. "I'm sorry."

I clamp my mouth shut and force myself to stop screaming. I slowly shake my head. "I-I don't want to be touched right now," I stammer.

"Wh-what happened?" Isis asks.

"Don't ask," I whisper as I pull the covers over my head. "Please don't ask."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Daughter and the Son**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	81. The Daughter and the Son

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Daughter and the Son**

-[]-[]-[]-

The wagon must be passing through the gates of Al Mipedim, because I can hear trumpets. Look, they say, Prince Osiris has returned.

I briefly wonder who was fulfilling my duties while I was... occupied. It's not like time simply stopped while I was away.

Ugh, my thoughts feel so disjointed right now. I can barely think.

The wagon comes to a stop, and the back flap opens. A soldier, I forget his name, helps me out of the wagon. A throng of soldiers shields me from direct view as we head for the palace, and I'm grateful for it. The people of the city shouldn't have to see the state I'm in. Let them imagine a proud prince returning to his home, not this half-dead creature that I am.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm taken to the bathhouse. I insist that I bathe myself, but my request is denied. Everyone looks afraid that I'm going to keel over at any moment. So now I'm sitting in the heated room of the bathhouse with invisible servants attacking my stench with the oil and the sponges. Off goes the dirt and the sweat. A rough sponge is pressed against my body, and it feels like it's scraping off skin-

-\/-\/-\/-

_It feels like it's scraping off skin when Aa'une drags his fingers down my back. Then he grabs my hips and presses the head of his-_

-\/-\/-\/-

The servant stumbles back, fully visible and clutching his throat. I must have swung wildly in my panic.

I have to be restrained for the rest of the cleaning.

-[]-[]-[]-

I look... **somewhat** presentable, I guess. I'm no longer filthy, I no longer reek, and with the robe I'm wearing it isn't obvious that I'm a living skeleton. That much is important, because I'm about to see my kids, Hera for the first time in ten solans, and Jupiter for the first time ever. If only I didn't have to have these bodyguards on either side of me around for this particular thing.

Isis leads our children into the room I'm sitting in. Hera looks so much different from the last time I saw her. She's a little over half Isis's height, and her bright red scales now have a crystalline shine to them like her mother's. She's wearing a violet muge's cloak and garment, with the hood pulled down. A pair of small horns jut out from the sides of her head, almost like the kind of cliché horns cartoon devils have.

Jupiter hides behind Isis when he sees me, too quickly for me to get a good look at him, so all I can tell right now is that he too has red scales. Isis turns around and soothes him, saying, "That's your father, Jupiter. Don't you want to see him?

Hera slowly approaches me, confusion on her young face. "Daddy?" she asks.

I can understand her befuddlement. I definitely look completely different from the last time she saw me. She won't be able to recognize me by sight, but there's another way.

When Hera is an arm's length away from me, I reach out and give her nose a light poke.

Hera's hand reaches up and touches her nose. Her eyes widen, and a grin replaces her confused expression. "Daddy! You're home!" Her arms wrap around my chest-

-\/-\/-\/-

_His arms wrap around my chest from behind and lift me off of the ground. "Running **again**?" he sneers. "One might think you actually **enjoyed** the punishment for attempting to escape. Maybe this time I should go hard enough to make you **bleed**-"_

-\/-\/-\/-

I'm so glad that Hera is pinning my arms to my sides while she hugs me. I won't ever forgive myself if I accidentally hit her in a panic.

"You're back!" Hera sobs happily as she buries her face in my shoulder. "I **knew** you'd come back! They kept saying you wouldn't, but I just **knew**."

"Too tight!" I gasp. I feel like my ribs are about to break.

Hera doesn't hear me, but the bodyguards do. They carefully pry Hera off of me, and I take a much needed breath of air.

"Sorry," Hera mutters.

"It's okay," I wheeze. "Who told you I wasn't coming back?"

"Uncle Mudeenu," Hera says.

...I'll have a few choice words with Mudeenu later.

Isis is still trying to get Jupiter to see me. "Look, your sister likes him. Go and stand next to your sister."

Jupiter's head peeks around Isis, and he slowly walks up to Hera before trying to hide behind her.

Jupiter is a more natural red than Isis and Hera. He has large blue eyes and rough scales, and he has a very deliberate gait when he walks, with none of the clumsiness I expected from an eight solan old Mipedian. His long tail drags on the ground, and the end of his tail is covered in small nubs, the beginning of a set of spikes.

I lean forward and try to look around Hera. "Jupiter?"

Jupiter peeks out and looks at me, then hides behind Hera again.

"I'm not going to bite," I say.

Jupiter slowly steps out from behind Hera. He stands in front of me, staring with wide eyes. He lifts his hand to his mouth and starts to nibble at his claws, and then he rushes back to hide behind his mother again.

Watching Jupiter run from me feels like a punch to the guts. "I... guess he'll need some getting used to me," I mutter.

Hera frowns and makes as if to hug me again, then pauses. She looks worried that she'll hurt me. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, then spread my arms out in invitation. Hera carefully embraces me-

-\/-\/-\/-

_Embracing me in his arms, laughing sinisterly as he presses me against his muscular body. Any moment now he's going to thrust-_

-\/-\/-\/-

I force myself to sit absolutely still while Hera and I hug, but I can't stop my heart from racing.

After a while, one of my guards lightly taps Hera's shoulder. "Your father needs to rest, now. He's been through a lot, and he needs to recover."

"What happened, Daddy?" Hera asks as she steps back.

"Not now, Hera," Isis says as she leads her and Jupiter towards the door-

"Excuse me," an old Mipedian in a tattered blue cloak says, standing at the door. "May I speak with Prince Osiris?"

Jupiter immediately hides behind Isis. Isis stammers, "E-Enre-hep, hello."

One of my bodyguards firmly states, "Prince Osiris will not be seeing-"

I clear my throat, and the Mipedian stops talking. "I'd be delighted to speak with Enre-hep."

The guard says, "Very well, then."

"Alone," I add.

Isis nods and quickly escorts our children out. My guards, however, give me concerned glances. "Your Highness, in your current state-"

"Alone," I repeat.

The guard gives me an exasperated stare. "You must be accompanied by an armed guard at all-"

"**Alone**." I touch my throat. "Is my voice not working or something?"

"King Theb-sarr's orders." The guard glances at Enre-hep. "We can't leave you alone with this nomad, we can't trust him-"

"I have absolute faith in High Muge Enre-hep," I state.

"High Muge?" The guard chuckles. "You're mistaken-"

I raise my eyebrows. "Then should I say the **future** High Muge Enre-hep?" I sigh. "Never mind, I guess Enre-hep will have to wait. A pity, I was looking forward to hearing what very **important**, possibly **lifesaving** information he had for me, **especially** considering his unique talents and connections. Indeed, whatever **sensitive** information he has might help stop the M'arrillian invasion, but if you do insist that he cannot speak to me **alone**, then I guess he will have to wait while the M'arrillians continue to destroy the lives of innocent creatures everywhere."

The two guards suddenly look very nervous. "I... guess that, since you think so highly of this nomad, we can simply keep watch outside the door."

Oh how I **missed** being able to make my point like that.

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep and I are now alone. We sit across from each other, both silent. At least silent to the naked ear.

{I assumE thaT yoU wisH A guaranteE thaT wE wilL noT bE overhearD?} Enre-hep asks.

You are correct, High Muge.

{thaT iS onE thinG I wisH foR yoU tO clarifY,} Enre-hep thinks as he vocally chuckles, {buT speakinG likE thiS iS awkwarD anD clumsY.} He lifts his hands up. {maY I creatE A betteR placE foR uS tO communicate?}

I fight the urge to recoil from his hands. Yes, Enre-hep. You may.

{maY I usE youR homE oN eartH aS ouR environmenT?}

What's he talking about? Uh, I guess?

The old Mipedian muge presses his fingers to my temples-

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The One Who Knows**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	82. The One Who Knows

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The One Who Knows**

-[]-[]-[]-

Ah, **that's** what he meant by environment.

I'm in my normal twenty-three year old body. I'm lying on a bed with a dark wood frame. The sheet covering the mattress is tan with small black lines running down its length, and the pillow's and blanket's covers are colored and patterned similarly.

The room's walls are painted white, and sunlight streams through a large window missing its curtains on the wall opposite the bed. Underneath the window is a long dresser. A white door leading to a walk-in closet is on the wall to the right, and to the left is a white door leading into the hall.

This is my bedroom, and the only hint that I haven't woken up is the Mipedian standing in the middle of the room.

"I apologize for any disorientation you may be experiencing," he says. "I have little practice with creating environments that I personally have not experienced."

"The only thing that feels odd is seeing you in my bedroom," I chuckle.

I feel at peace. It's a feeling I haven't had for a while. Even before my ordeal with Aa'une, I was constantly under pressure with my duties as Prince of Al Mipedim.

Being at peace does not stop certain things from being odd, though. "Enre-hep, where are your clothes?"

"My worldly possessions are not a part of my soul," the Mipedian says, "so they do not follow me into the mindspace of other creatures."

I push my blanket off of me and get up. "Yeah, I'll just find you a towel to wrap around your waist."

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm upstairs, sitting on the couch in front of the television. Enre-hep, more or less decent now, is exploring the house. He's not actually wasting time, considering that time in the outside world is more or less stopped while we're here.

"You have water pumped directly into your **home**?" Enre-hep asks, awestruck. He's in the kitchen, staring at the faucet pouring water.

"Yup," I say.

Enre-hep looks at me over the counter that separates the kitchen area from the living room area. "Amazing," he breathes. He fiddles with the faucet's handle, then exclaims, "You can even choose its temperature!"

I hold back a laugh. This is just so precious.

Enre-hep turns off the water and heads for the dining room. He's looking at the lights over the dining room table. "What are these?" he asks.

I stand up and head for the switch Enre'hep had passed. I flip in up, and the lights turn on in the dining room and the kitchen. Enre-hep stares at the lights, then the switch. Then he starts playing with the light switch. "I feel like a little child again, exploring the world and being fascinated by everything."

"Pretty much how many Humans felt when we arrived in Perim," I reply.

Enre-hep glaces at me, and he flips off lights and turns to me. "I already know that this is all your dream, Prince Osiris. You effectively told when you had me read your mind."

"Which was a mistake," I mutter. "I'm sorry to have shattered your perceptions of the world."

Enre-hep laughs. "No perceptions were shattered, Your Highness. Even before I met you, I had always believed that all of reality was a dream. I simply believed that it was **my** dream."

I raise my eyebrows. "Really?"

"Absolutely convinced," the Mipedian chuckles. "It wasn't that much of a shock to discover that I simply had the wrong dreamer."

"Aa'une and Phelphor didn't take it quite as well as you did." I feel chills run down my back before the peace of the place pushes the feeling away.

"Which brings me to the reason why I wanted to speak with you." Enre-hep holds his tail to the side and sits down on a chair. "I have reason to believe that Aa'une had been using your mind as a scrying mechanism."

I shiver again, and this time the feeling does **not** go away. "Yes, he did."

"May I see?" Enre-hep asks.

I shiver again. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I would like to see how much of an advantage it granted him," the muge clarifies. "Our military is currently using several means to avoid what we assumed was a master soothsayer, and I would like to know how many of the practices are no longer needed now that Aa'une does not have you."

I have a feeling that I won't enjoy this, but he has a point. "Very well..."

Enre-hep places a hand on the dining room table, and suddenly crystal flowers bloom on its surface. Enre-hep takes a deep breath, then declares loudly, "Show me the bloom that holds Aa'une's soul!"

Crystal flowers start flying off the table, shattering into pieces against the walls, only for new flowers to appear on the table when they leave. For a while the flowers simply zoom everywhere, until only one remains.

Enre-hep glances at me. "Are you sure? From what little I gathered from my first foray in your mind, looking in Aa'une's mind will most likely not be pleasant for you."

I set my jaw. "Go ahead."

Enre-hep reaches towards the flower, and his hand transforms into a glowing gold specter as it approaches. He touches the topmost petal-

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm surrounded by what remains of the broken bodies of the creatures that had failed me. Failed to secure the dreamer, Michael. Their blood is everywhere, on the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and coating my projection's body.

I let out a roar with both my bodies. A pointless roar, it solves nothing. I lost the keystone of reality **and** my weapon in the same moment. And all that work to break him, now completely lost.

...We must accelerate our plans. **My** plans. Those fools K'yall and Pah'ziq, urging me to stop the invasion and turn to diplomacy. Diplomacy, ha! As if **they** knew how to deal with those disgusting creatures.

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep pulls his hand away. His eyes are wide, staring at his hand and flexing it. "Just like last time..." he mutters. "It felt as if I **was** another creature..." He turns to me and asks, "So your mind can be used to spy on any creature, see what he or she is thinking or feeling?"

"Not just the present," I say. "Think about it. Is time passing outside while we're here?"

"No," Enre-hep says. "I informed you of that earlier."

"If we were only looking at the present, then you would have seen only a snapshot of Aa'une's mind, not those several seconds that you saw." With all the time Aa'une had spent inside my head, I had learned quite a bit about how it worked.

"Show me," Enre-hep says.

My heart seems to freeze. There are so many places in Aa'une's past that I do **not** want to look at. But then again, what are the chances that I'll pick one of those times, considering how long he's probably lived?

I reach over to the flower. My hand seems to turn into jet black crystal as it approaches. I hover my finger over a petal near the base, then lower it so I touch-

-[]-[]-[]-

The dreamer screams and begs. I can sense pain, yes, but the physical pain is not what his cryings are about. He cries for the pain of his soul, the loss of power, the violation of what he thought was his and his alone.

I do not care about his cries.

I thrust my projected body forward once again, and the connection between it and my real body flares up. Even though the dreamer is not attractive in any form to me, this... **power** I have over him is most arousing.

I continue, and soon my projected body is pushed to its limit, as is my real one. My projection releases the pressure it has built up into the dreamer's body. All it takes is a few strokes of my phallus for my real body to also spill my seed. Ugh, I've made a mess of my chest and stomach.

Ah, the dreamer Michael curls up in a ball and sobs. Breaking him is going quite well.

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm screaming. I can't stop. Enre-hep is yanking my hand away from the flower.

The house is a wreck now. Broken chairs are floating in the air, smashed glassware has fallen sideways against the wall. In the kitchen, blood is leaking from the refrigerator, and a jet of flame is spewing out of the sink. A thunderstorm rages outside, and the wind has shattered all the glass windows in the house. A crack opens in the upstairs living room floor, and furniture from the lower floor starts erupting from the fissure.

"Show me Enre-hep!" the muge roars as he struggles with my hand.

Aa'une's flower zooms away and flies out a window, and suddenly crystal flowers start pouring from the walls. They fly through the air, smashing against each other, and then they suddenly all stop. One flower floats directly in front of my crystal hand.

I feel the house begin to tip over. My parents' bedroom door flies open, and their bed, ignoring that fact that it's too large to do so, falls through the doorway. It tumbles end over end at Enre-hep and me.

Enre-hep forces my hand to touch the flower-

-[]-[]-[]-

Breath in... Breath out... I must empty my mind... Empty my heart...

Feel the sun shine down... Listen to the water of the oasis... Feel the sand beneath my feet...

Breath in...

Breath out...

I am at one with the world...

The world is at one with me...

In...

Out...

I open my eyes, and before me I see a light in my hands. I release it, and it floats up to the mugic floating above me.

"Minor Flourish," I whisper, and the song begins to play. The light and sound descends on me.

I look down at the wound in my arm that I inflicted on myself earlier. I watch as the mugical light envelopes it, pulls the flesh together. There, now it can heal properly.

I sit down by the edge of the Oasis again. A smile flits across my mouth. Today, at the age of thirty solans, I have finally cast my first mugic.

-[]-[]-[]-

I gasp for breath as I pull my hand away from the flower. The house looks completely normal now.

Erne-hep collapses in a chair, gasping for breath. "Let us **not** do that again," he breathes.

"Let's not," I agree.

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep removes his fingers from my temples. I sag in my chair, feeling weaker than before.

{I aM sorrY,} Enre-hep says. {I diD noT meaN-}

"It's fine," I say, "it was my fault."

Enre-hep looks at the floor for a while. {...I caN teacH yoU hoW tO protecT youR minD froM thosE likE myselF.}

And suddenly that terrifying experience feels just a little bit worth it. "When can we start?" I ask eagerly. A shield for my mind, that's exactly what I need.

{lateR. noW, yoU musT resT.}

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Toast**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	83. The Toast

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Toast**

-[]-[]-[]-

I've been back a week... A week of not having to look over my shoulder all the time... A week where the war with the M'arrillians is happening somewhere far away...

"Good morning, Daddy!"

I grunt and lift an arm up to shield my eyes. "Hera?" I mutter.

I start pushing myself into a sitting position. Then I feel something get placed on my lap. I rub my eyes and look down to see a tray with a loaf of bread and a bowl of porridge.

"Surprise!" Hera grins, looking very pleased with herself. "I heard the doctor say that you shouldn't have anything too chewy, so I made you this!"

I touch the bread. It feels hot, freshly baked. I look out the window to see the sun barely over the horizon. She had to have woken up early to make me this. "Thank you," I say before picking up the spoon next to the bowl.

The porridge is a little bland, and the bread is a bit burned on the bottom, but it's the best breakfast I've ever had.

-[]-[]-[]-

At my repeated insistence, I've been escorted to Shasta's bar. Many people are here to see me, but this afternoon there's only a few people I really want to talk to.

"Did you kick any M'arrillian a** while you were down there?" Sett laughs.

"Sett!" Ashley admonishes. "I don't think he wants to be reminded about any of that!"

Shasta passes by and drops a glass in front of me. "Welcome back," he says with a grin.

Malvadine tilts his head a little as he looks at the glass. "Is alcohol even safe for you to drink right now?"

"Michael only drinks on special occasions," Maliph laughs.

Sett smirks. "Today might very well be a special occasion. Shasta! How about a drink for everyone!"

Ashley slaps Sett's shoulder. "You can't have **any** hard drinks, remember?"

"I'll get him a fresh one," Shasta says as he passes by again.

"Is this a toast?" Malvadive asks.

"Why not?" Maliph grins.

Shasta brings a glass for everyone, and everyone raises their drinks.

"To Prince Osiris!" Sett calls out.

"To his safe return!" Ashley adds.

"And to the quick return of his health," Isis says as she sits beside me. "Good morning, Michael."

"Isis," I smile. "Glad you could join us. Was Jupiter causing problems?"

"He just always wants his mother all the time," Isis sighs. A glass is placed in front of her. "Thank you, Shasta."

"You're welcome, Your Highness," Shasta replies.

"We're just celebrating Michael's return!" Maliph beams. He gives my shoulder a solid punch-

-\/-\/-\/-

_A solid punch dislocates my shoulder. Another blow to the side of my head makes me see stars. It's all good, though. As long as the punishment doesn't progress to-_

_Aa'une forces me to my knees, and he pulls his loincloth to the side with one hand._

_No! Please, don't!_

_The M'arrillian Oligarch's other hand grabs the back of my head. He digs a finger into the back of my neck, forcing me to open my mouth and scream, then he pulls my head forward and stuffs his-_

-\/-\/-\/-

Maliph stumbles back, his front all wet with wine. He sputters, "What was that for?"

I look at my arm. It looks like I splashed him with my drink. "S-sorry," I stammer. "I-I didn't know what I was..."

"He's having issues with being touched," Isis says as she takes the empty glass out of my hand.

Maliph stops trying to wipe the liquid off, and his eyes widen. "Torture-?" he begins before snapping his mouth shut. Everyone else looks a little sick to their stomachs.

I nod mutely. They don't need to know exactly what else happened-

"That's only half of it," Mudeenu's voice calls out from across the rooms. The words are pronounced with a slur, as if he was a bit drunk. Which he might well be.

Isis's eyes widen. "Mudeenu!" she shouts, "Stop talking! Now!"

The crowd starts to part, and Mudeenu stumbles through the gap in the crowd to the table I'm sitting at. He squeezes between Sett and Ashley and places his hands on the table. He's swaying a bit, looking like he's ready to fall over, and his breath smells like alcohol.

"Michael here's only telling you half of the story," Mudeenu chuckles as he points at me. I feel a chill fill the air around me.

Isis growls, "Mudeenu, drink until you pass out if you want, but do **not** finish that-!"

Mudeenu laughs loudly and says, "When I burst into the cell Michael was in, Aa'une was in there f***ing the **s***** out of him!"

Many people stare bugged-eyed at Mudeenu, then at me. I want to just disappear right now. Isis, though stands up and starts to walk around the table.

Mudeenu continues loudly, "Really! Aa'une was right there just pounding away at Michael's a**, and Michael was just screaming and crying like a wimp-"

Isis walks up to Mudeenu and pulls her fist back. Then she turns, launching her fist at Mudeenu's face. Her fist collides with Mudeenu's nose, and he falls backwards, a spray of blood erupting from his nostrils. The large Mipedian hits the ground and stops moving.

Isis points at the crowd and moves her arm around, pointing at everyone. "What you heard does not leave this room," she hisses. "If I see this in any newspaper, or I hear gossip, or anything else about this, there will be severe consequences. Do not ask me what they are."

Everyone immediately turns to their drinks. Isis looks down, mutters, "You'll be perfectly fine the floor, Mudeenu," then walks back to her chair.

There's several moments of silence. Then Ashley whistles. "Wow."

"I can't believe him," Isis snaps. Her voice is low but firm. She turns to me and says, "He's been an absolute beast ever since Humans arrived in Perim, but these last ten solans have been the worst. He accuses you of making up a creature attempting to open the Doors, carelessly sends you alone to Jade Pillar, then accuses you of not trying hard enough to stop Phelphor when he learned that the Door **were** opened!"

Malvadine sputters, "But he's the reason Osiris didn't have help fighting Phelphor!"

The conversation turns quickly to how idiotic Mudeenu had been, which I tune out. I order another drink from Shasta, and later I put the glass to my lips-

"Prince Osiris?"

I set the glass down and glance at the door. Iflar is standing there, looking out of breath has he holds himself up using the frame of the doorway..

"You need to be presentable very quickly," Iflar gasps. "Danian ambassadors are on their way."

Well, this is unexpected. I grab my cane from the ground and hoist myself off my chair. "It was a pleasure to see you all again," I say.

Everyone bows their heads towards me. I turn and slowly walk towards the door.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Salute**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	84. The Salute

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Salute**

-[]-[]-[]-

An oil bath and a change of clothes later, and now I'm being taken to the throne room. The Danians should already be there, speaking with Theb-sarr and Iflar.

I'm more than a tad bit nervous. I'm representing the Humans of the Mipedian tribe, but I'm still this withered husk of a person. Will the Danians take it as a sign of weakness of the tribe as a whole? Then again, it could very well go the other way, with them seeing my willingness to show up in front of them this way as courage. Idiot's courage, but still courage.

"Wait," I say before we reach the doors to the throne room. My bodyguards pause, and I lean on my cane to catch my breath. This is the most I've walked all week, and it's exhausting.

After a few moments, I stand up as straight as I can and try to make it look like the cane is merely a decoration, much like I remember Austin using his. I nod, and we step forward. The doors open in front of us, and we walk in.

There's around twenty Danians here, I don't take the time to make an exact head count. Everyone turns to me upon hearing the sound of the doors opening, and the Danians-

...The Danians **bow**.

It's not a sarcastic bow, like Mudeenu is prone to do around me. Neither is it a courtesy bow, which is what I'm certain is what most of Al Mipedim are giving me when they bow. No, with this one, each Danian drops to one knee, place a hand at the center of his chest, and lowers his his head to look at the ground.

I stop in my tracks. That's a very special bow, just a little lower in symbolic respect than the one that Danains are supposed to give Queen Illexia.

If the Danians had been discussing anything with Theb-sarr beforehand, they seem to have forgotten about it now. "Hail, Prince Osiris," the Danian crowd says in unison.

The hell?

A Danian stands and steps forward from the group. I recognize him as Odu-Bathax. "The Danian tribe owes you a debt, Your Highness," he says, still pressing his hand against his chest.

...Am I dreaming? Within my dream, I mean. Of **course** I'm dreaming.

Theb-sarr looks a little lost. "Have I missed something important?" he asks.

Odu-Bathax steps aside, allowing me to pass. I head for my chair while everyone waits, and then the Danian speaks. "In the hours before the M'arrillians captured him, Prince Osiris discovered a young Danian. His name was Piabo."

My heart skips a beat.

"Piabo was mortally wounded," Odu-Bathax continues. "Prince Osiris comforted him until he died, then prepared a small funeral for him, even giving up a piece of royal grab to cover the unsightly wound dealt to the young Danian."

Odu-Bathax waves a mandiblor over, who steps to Odu-Bathax's side and hand him a yellow bundle. Odu-Bathax walks up to and kneels in front of me. "We return this to you, Your Highness," Odu-Bathax says as he lifts the bundle towards me.

Two flaps of cloth are sticking up from the bundle. I realize that I'm supposed to take a hold of them. I do so, and Odu-Bathax releases the bundle of cloth. It unrolls as it falls, until it reveals a golden cape, emblazoned with the Mipedian symbol. There are brown stains on the cape. Blood stains.

Odu-Bathax steps back and says, "This is the garment you bound Piabo's wound with. As a tribe, we ask you to wear it when you avenge him." They all bow again. "We know it will put us more debt to you, but we are prepared to pay it."

Theb-sarr, Iflar, and everyone else in the throne room stare at me, while I stare at the cape. I slowly stand and fasten it to the collar of my robe. Then I sit back down, tears leaking from my eyes.

-[]-[]-[]-

I hear a whisper to my left. "Osiris, wake up." It's Iflar's voice.

I open my eyes and blink. Had I really fallen asleep during the meeting?

"Prince Osiris," Odu-Bathax says, "we know of a way to restore your body to the state it was in before your capture. If it pleases you, we wish to begin paying our debt by giving back what the M'arrillians have taken from you."

Not **everything** Aa'une took from me can be given back. Still, restoring my body and my strength, I want that. I can't be sure that a natural recovery will succeed.

This is not a gift being offered. It's a payment, so the rule of refusing the offer twice does not apply here. "I gladly accept," I say, trying to keep my voice from becoming a squeak of excitement.

Odu-Bathax bows again. "Then we will begin shipping materials and personnel here immediately." He extends a hand towards me.

I hesitate, then reach out to accept the handshake. He grips my hand-

-\/-\/-\/-

_He grips my hand, and I can feel bones cracking. Aa'une growls,"Start sucking, or I'll crush your hand into a paste."_

_I hold out as long as I can, but the pain is too much. I sob as I lower my head-_

-\/-\/-\/-

I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to drive away the images and memories that erupt from my mind.

Fortunately, Odu-Bathax interprets my expression as a reaction to the firmness of his grip. He releases my hand and says, "My apologies, I didn't realize I was gripping so hard.

I wave my hand to play along with the misconception. "You couldn't have know," I mutter.

Odu-Bathax steps back and says to Theb-sarr, "If that is all, Your Majesty, then I must send a message to Mount Pillar."

"That is all," King Theb-sarr replies, and the Danians file out of the room.

I'm still staring at my hand. Will this ever go away? Will I spend the rest of my life recoiling from people's touch, afraid to see what memory it will dredge up next?

I clench my fist. No, I will not let this control me. I will overpower this thing. I will **beat** it.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Balance of Body and Mind**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	85. The Balance of Body and Mind

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Balance of Body and Mind**

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm lying on my bed, my head where my feet should be. High Muge- no, **future** High Muge Enre-hep stands behind me, his hands hovering near my temples. I need to remind myself that Enre-hep apparently isn't the High Muge yet.

Enre-hep has finished moving his belongings from his home in the desert to Al Mipedim, and we're about to start my training.

Enre-hep's voice is very quiet as he says, "I want you to close your eyes and slowly take a deep breath..."

I close my eyes and open my mouth to inhale.

"Through your nose," Enre-hep corrects. "Breathe in through your nose."

I close my mouth and continue breathing through my nose.

"Now slowly exhale through your mouth." Enre-hep continues.

I slowly let out the air in my lungs.

"Breathe in, breathe out, slowly and steadily."

After a few moments, I feel Enre-hep's fingers press against my temples. I shudder a little, but the touch doesn't trigger a memory from me.

"I will now try to search your mind," Enre-hep says. "I will not teach you how to defend against me at this time. Simply relax and learn what it feels like for someone to search your mind."

I kind of already know, Enre-hep.

Enre-hep chuckles. "Mind readings you have encountered before were not subtle, so your mind was able to latch onto what they saw. I will not be that direct."

How will I know when you've started?

Enre-hep grins. "You were born in a country that no longer exists on Earth. West Germany, if I'm reading you correctly."

What? I didn't feel anything!

"Relax," Enre-hep repeats. "When your mind is busy, it will miss the signs."

I start the steady breathing again and try to let my mind go blank. Some time passes, and I don't feel anything.

"You had a white stuffed bear with red paws as a child," Enre-hep notes.

How did he-? Relax... Just try to feel how he's doing it.

...Why do I feel like playing chess?

"Your favorite strategy in an Earth game called 'chess' is the Four-Move-Checkmate." Enre-hep presses his lips together. "It looks like quite an interesting game, I may need to craft a board for myself."

Wait a second...

...Bubbles.

Enre-hep raises his eye ridges. "You once read a book about the physics surrounding soap bubbles from cover to cover three times in a row because you couldn't think of anything else to do."

Drawing.

"Sketch, guideline, outline, shading-" Enre-hep blinks, then laughs. "You're manipulating what I'm finding."

I open my eyes and smirk. Is that good?

"You're getting ahead of me, actually," Enre-hep sighs. "Learn to sense first, **then** you can start interfering."

I sigh and close my eyes again.

-[]-[]-[]-

It's later in the day, around time for dinner. The Danians have shipped over everything they need to set me on the road back to my healthy body. Today is the first step of the process.

I stare at the row of wooden mugs filled with frothy thick liquid. "...Is this honeybeer?" I ask hesitantly.

The mandiblor across from me tilts his head. "What's a honeybeer?"

Ah, right, honeybeer was my nickname for it. "Is this the drink that, er, Danians create with their second stomachs?"

The mandiblor nods. "With our crops, yes."

Joy to the freaking world. "Am I supposed to drink all of this?" I ask with some alarm. There's got to be three or so gallons of the stuff here.

"Just as much as you can," the mandiblor replies. "There is a lot of sugar in these, and you'll **need** all of it for later, but we don't expect you to drink all you need in one sitting."

"This is going to replace all of my meals for some time, isn't it," I groan as I lift up a mug.

The mandiblor grimaces apologetically. "Yes, I'm afraid."

Ugh. Well, bottoms up. I tilt my head back and pour honeybeer in my mouth-

...Way. Too. Sweet.

I'd completely forgotten how sweet this stuff is. It feels like a kick in the mouth. I gag and sputter, covering my mouth just a little to late.

I have to hand it to the Danian. Most people would show at least some reaction to being sprayed with this stuff. He, however, doesn't even flinch.

"Sorry," I mutter as I wipe my mouth.

The mandiblor takes a cloth from the table and wipes his face with it. "Apology accepted."

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep sits across the table from me, staring intently at his hands.

I've learned what to look for when sensing an intrusion into my mind. The exercise now is to learn how to sense it while distracted. So while Enre-hep stares at his hands, I'm busy copying a page of nonsense writing to another piece of paper.

There, I felt something. I underline the nonsense word I'd been copying when I sensed Enre-hep's presence in my mind.

When I'm done, I hand the paper to Enre-hep, who studies the page. "You sensed thirteen intrusions?" he asks.

"I think so," I mutter.

Enre-hep picks up my pen and starts scribbling on the page. Then he shows me what he added. "These five, I've circled the words, I was not touching your mind, and these seven that I've crossed out are intrusions that you missed."

...Yikes, I didn't do well at all.

Enre-hep pulls another prepared page of nonsense from his stack of paper and hands it to me. "Again."

-[]-[]-[]-

After this is done, I'm never touching sugar again.

It's been a week since this gorging on honeybeer has started. Of course, "honeybeer" is the wrong nickname. There's no alcohol in these.

I choke a little on my fifth mug, and I cough as I set down the mug. "I can't-" Another cough. "I can't drink any more than that."

"Very well," says the mandiblor.

As he cleans up, I lean back in my chair and hold my stomach. "How long is this going to go for?" I groan.

"The next step of the process will proceed in ten days' time," the mandiblor states.

I groan again and close my eyes. I can already feel my heart racing from all this sugar. It's a familiar sensation now. Ugh, eating like this would make any normal person obese within a month, maybe even less.

The Danian suddenly says, "Ah, I was to tell you that I will not be a part of the next step. A team of controllers will be helping you instead."

And now my heart is racing for a completely different reason. Controllers are the Danians who specialize in using parasites to infect and assimilate other creatures. I pray that the next step doesn't consist of what I think it does.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Nightmare Team**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	86. The Nightmare Team

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Nightmare Team**

-[]-[]-[]-

It's become increasingly clear to everyone that the M'arrillians have somehow lost the advantage they'd had during the first ten solans of the invasion. The strange omniscience they'd had seems to have vanished, leaving behind directionless and confused M'arrillian army. Their attacks on cities, previously taking inhabitants by surprise with their efficiency, are now frequent but fruitless.

Enre-hep has been feeding information to the Mipedian army, but only now are his words being taken seriously. What had at first been a laughable idea, that after my rescue the M'arrillian tribe's strength would deteriorate, is starting to seem more and more plausible to them.

Iflar has gone out on a campaign against the M'arrillians. It's another rescue mission at the Deepmines. If luck holds out, Iflar will be able to save **many** more creatures from the M'arrillians than the last rescue.

Several Humans in Al Mipedim, myself included, have been explaining what had happened during the war within the context of the game back on Earth. Theb-sarr and Illexia have agreed to the early formation of the Dryland Alliance, but Chaor and Maxxor, well... it doesn't look like they'll be joining anytime soon.

Huh, all these thoughts about the war. I should set them aside for now. Right now it is time to be with my family while I wait for the Danians to be ready.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Daddy, look," Hera says as she shows me her cupped hands.

I look at Hera's hands. There are little scraps of torn up paper inside. What's amazing is that the confetti paper is spiraling around in her hands like a miniature tornado.

I whistle. "Very nice! Did Tiaane teach you that?"

Hera shakes her head. "He had Sobtjek teach me."

"How big can you make it?" I ask.

"Hm." Hera focuses on the tiny tornado, and the paper spiral begins to grow-

Poof.

Paper is **everywhere**, slowly fluttering to the ground.

Hera blinks, then says, "I can make it that big."

I hold back a snicker as I brush confetti out of my hair.

"Hera!" a small voice whines.

Hera and I look over across the room to see Jupiter sitting on the ground and wiping the confetti away from something. Isis sits in a chair nearby, hiding a grin behind her hand.

Jupiter picks up a large piece of paper from the place he wiped it away and holds it towards Isis. "Mommy, look."

Isis leans forward, then grins. "Very nice."

"Jupiter?" I say. "May I see?"

Jupiter glances at me, then drops the paper and moves so he's behind Isis and buries his face in her dress.

Isis presses her eye ridges together with concern. "...Jupiter, go show that to Daddy."

Jupiter whimpers a little and doesn't move. Hera grumbles a bit, picks up the paper, and gives it to me.

There's a bunch of wobbly Mipedians drawn on the page. A red one is labeled "Ma," and next to it is a shorter red one labeled "Sis" and a much shorter one labeled "Me." Then there's "Gran Pa," "Uncl I," "Uncl M," and "Jo."

Hera is looking over my shoulder. "Jupiter, where's Daddy in this?"

I had also noticed my absence from the picture. "It's okay," I tell Hera. It **is** a little painful, but Jupiter barely knows me. I can't expect him to accept me as his father right away.

-[]-[]-[]-

Hera cleans up the paper confetti in the most amazing way possible, by picking everything up in another hand-held tornado. Joalle then takes the children to their room. It's time for me to meet with the Danian controllers.

Isis, thankfully, wants to be here for me. "As grateful as the Danians may be towards you," she had said earlier, "I still have misgivings about their parasites and the ones who utilize them. I don't trust them enough to leave you alone with them."

So not only will she be with me, so will Maliph, Malvadine, and several other Mipedians chosen by them.

The controllers are escorted into the room I'm in. There are three of them, their features hidden by the tattered brown cloaks they wear.

The Danian at the rear of the group looks around at the soldiers as he enters. "I sense a lack of trust," his raspy voice clicks.

The Danian in front of him sighs, "It is reasonable for them to be on edge. His Highness's last encounter with the fruits of our craft was not the most pleasant experience."

The Danian at the very front mutters, "At least they give the courtesy to **show** that we are being watched. They could very well have waited invisibly instead."

"Um, hello," I say, not sure if the controllers are listening.

"Your Highness," the three hiss more or less simultaneously as they bow.

I feel Isis shudder beside me and almost grab my arm. She pauses, then lays her hands on her lap.

The lead controller straightens first. "We have been assigned to perform the next step of the process that will restore your former strength."

"Will it involve parasites?" I ask, skipping right to the part I'm anxious about.

The controller pauses briefly, then I see his hood lower and raise. A nod.

I almost want to call the whole thing off right now. I don't, though. I don't want to look like a skeleton anymore.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, then say, "Thank you. You may continue."

The controller immediately begins speaking again. "After today, you will be required to imbibe the meals we prepare for you, but only on the days we actually meet. On other days you may consume what you wish."

The three Danians spread out in a row. "Today, though," the Danian on the left says, "we will use the preparation you have undergone in the days before we arrived."

I can taste the honeybeer in my mouth again.

"Are you ready to begin?" the Danian on the right asks.

I take another deep breath, then slowly let it out. "As ready as I can be."

The center Danian gestures at the floor. "Then disrobe and lay down in front of us."

-[]-[]-[]-

My soldiers are respectfully averting their gazes. The Danians are standing over me. Isis is kneeling down beside me. I raise my hand towards Isis. She hesitantly holds my hand.

I feel a flicker of a memory, but I focus on Isis's face instead. Isis looks worried as she sees the strain on my face.

The three Danians kneel down. Each raises their hands and holds them over my body. I can see a squirming, clicking little bug in one of the four hands of the middle controller.

A thought occurs to me. "Isis," I whisper, "you may have to order the soldiers to hold me down."

Isis slowly nods. "I will if you need me to."

The controllers lower their hands at the same time, a set of hand touching my legs, another set touching my face, and the third touching my stomach and hips. It feels like something sharp has burrowed into my stomach. The eyes of the Danians glow slightly from beneath their hoods, and their hands press down on me-

-\/-\/-\/-

_His hands press down on me, then start to wander. "You've been **such** a good little Human," Aa'une taunts. "I have a reward for you," he whispers with a sinister grin. He wraps a hand around my penis and begins to stroke-_

-\/-\/-\/-

My screams and thrashings are partly from the pain of the infection, but mostly it's the memory that had been sparked. Maliph is holding my left arm down, Malvadine my right, and the other soldiers are busy preventing me from kicking anyone.

Isis is still holding my hand. Her jaws are clenched together, and her eyes are squeezed shut. Is it that difficult to watch? Or is she in pain?

...Wait... I'm still holding her hand. Very tightly. I force myself to let go, and she quickly takes her hand away and holds it close to her chest.

_I'm surrounded by Mipedians. Are they attacking me?_

And there are the thoughts I knew would come. I feel my chest tighten, my skin hardening into a Danian shell.

_I can see other Danians. The do not look concerned. The Mipedians are not a threat._

I clench my jaws shut and force myself not to scream. I can feel sharp pain in my sides as a pair of arms make their way out.

_There's a Mipedian woman other there, holding her hand to her chest. Why does she look so worried when she looks at me?_

No! I need to keep remembering Isis! Don't make me forget her!

_Why am I alone? All these Mipedians do not matter. I want to hear the call of my hive. My brother Danians, why do they not speak to me?_

Maliph and Malvadine are now holding down my extra pair of arms. The Danian controllers watch. I can see one of them tapping his fingers against his leg.

_The middle of my three tribemates steps forward and places a hand on my stomach. I feel a burning sensation in my gut. I'm struck with realization. I'm... I'm not to become a part of the hive... By who's will is that?_

_I feel my exoskeleton, freshly formed, begin to soften into skin. My lower pair of arms begin to wither away. I can feel my mind fading... my eyes closing..._

_I guess this is goodbye, my brothers... but I'm not angry... Whatever this is for, you will it of me..._

_I am... always happy... to serve..._

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Change**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	87. The Change

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Change**

-[]-[]-[]-

...My body **aches**... from the surface of my skin to the marrow of my bones... It feels like every cell of my body was torn apart and put back together...

Mm, I feel warm. A blanket? Nice...

There are indistinct sounds surrounding me. I can't tell what they are. Voices? Yes, they're voices. What are they saying?

Gah, I can't tell... I want to sleep... No, wake up, Michael... Open your eyes...

There's a man standing over me. His face is all blurry. **Everything** is blurry. I blink a few times. Slightly more in focus now. Ah, the man is my doctor, Manuel. He appears to be saying something, but it sounds like gibberish to me.

My brain is still asleep, that's probably it. Wait, asleep, I'm already asleep- I mean within this reality my brain is- Gah, this is too much. I stop trying to make sense of my thoughts.

"-Osiris!"

Ah, I understood that word. I open my mouth to respond... How do I speak again?

"Can you hear me?"

How do I tell him yes? I can nod, that's what I'll do.

Manuel turns and shouts, "I need one of those Danians in here!"

-[]-[]-[]-

"A simple case of parts of the brain waking up faster than others," the controller hisses as he examines me. "A common occurrence. Give him a few more minutes and he'll recover."

"I feel better already, actually," I mutter. I try to sit up, and suddenly the room starts spinning. I lie back down.

"I'm surprised you feel anything at all!" Manuel exclaims. "What the hell kind of medical practice was that?"

"I knew what I was doing," the Danian hisses, "I was not practicing."

"No, by practice I mean- whatever." Manuel rubs his eyes with one hand and groans, "I have no idea what exactly you did to him, nor how it will respond to treatment. For all I know he's allergic to **water** now."

"That's a little unlikely," I snort.

"I know it is, just, arg!" Manuel looks like he's about to tear his hair out. "I don't know how I feel about any sort of therapy that involves the patient changing species in the process as a step!"

"It's really quite simple," the controller says.

Manuel points at the Danian. "Oh? What happens to the skeletal system?"

"It stays in place," the Danian says with a hint of laughter to his voice. "The skin turns into an exoskeleton, and it and the endoskeleton form a synergistic support system for the body."

"Where do the extra arms come from?" Manuel retorts.

"Muscle mass skin mass, and miscellaneous viscera are reapportioned from nearby tissues to form the extra pair of arms," the Danian replies.

Manuel doesn't look convinced at all. "Nervous system? Digestive system? What happens to gastrointestinal microorganisms? Where does the extra mass even **come** from?"

The Danian looks like he's actually holding back laughter now. "Unchanged, adjusted to extract nutrition from food more efficiently, modified to handle the changed digestion, and why did you think we were feeding him so much brew? We needed fat mass to turn into other tissues."

I grab Manuel's wrist. "You can stop now. They knew what they were doing."

Manuel is gritting his teeth together. "Ow."

I let go of his wrist and look at my hand. I thought I was holding his wrist **loosely**! "How did I-?"

"Would you like to remove the blanket and take a look?" the Danian asks.

I flip the blanket off my body. It was a lot easier than I expected. I try to sit up again and fight the dizziness as I look at myself.

I do not look like a skeleton anymore. I'm still skinny as heck, but I don't look like I'm about to keel over at any moment. No bones are protruding from under my skin, not even my ribs.

I feel stronger, though. The same movement that would be just enough for me to grab and lift a glass of water earlier is now enough to hurt a man by grabbing too hard. "Did you make me **stronger** than I used to be?"

The Danina shakes his head. "You simply haven't adjusted your habits. What used to take all of your strength now only takes a fraction of it. Grabbing the same way as you have been is simply applying more strength than necessary."

I swing my feet off the bed and put them on the floor. That was incredibly easy. I stand up. Also easy- Dizziness. I sit back down.

"So, Your Highness," the controller says as he bows, "shall we repeat this in eight days' time?"

Manuel looks like he's about to protest. The Danian quickly adds, "And you may of course join us and present your own view, Doctor Manuel."

Manuel seems a little taken aback, and he spends enough time recovering that when he's done the Danian is long gone.

"I was told that **Overworlders** were the ones skilled with healing," he mutters. He turns to me. "I'm going to do a checkup on you now, if you don't mind. I don't know how much the bug actually knows about Human physiology."

-[]-[]-[]-

Reflex tests, pulse checks, the terrifying turn-your-head-and-cough... All of those and more have been done, and Manuel finally cleans up.

"I can't find a single physical thing wrong beside malnutrition and a lower blood pressure than I'd like you to have," he says while washing his hands. Then he pulls up a chair and sits across from me. "I did notice something else, though. You recoiled a little every time I was about to check your pulse or anything else that required me to touch you, especially anywhere near your private areas."

"We're done here," I snap, grabbing the blanket and covering myself with it before trying to stand up.

Manuel barely stops himself from grabbing my arm. "This is important. You don't need to talk to **me** about it, but I strongly urge you to talk to **someone**. This isn't healthy, and trying to struggle through whatever it is, I'm not going to make any guesses, without help **won't** help."

"I'll keep that in mind," I grumble as I walk for the door.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Feared One**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	88. The Feared One

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Feared One**

-[]-[]-[]-

It's been about a solan now. The war is still going on. The M'arrillians have recovered a bit, and the tribes of Perim are back on the defensive.

My mental defenses are coming together slowly. I'm pretty good at recognizing an intrusion in progress, and I am passable at blocking it when I find it. Still not perfect, though, so if a M'arrillian attempts to invade my mind, I really should just get the heck out of there. Enre-hep is also reaching the limits of what he can teach me, so I very well might not make any further progress.

I'm still skinny, but it's reasonable now. Eventually all I will need is a good diet and a workout program to regain my old body. The Danian controllers insist that I'm healthy enough for them to start performing accelerated procedures on me, but Manuel is nervous about the idea. Personally, I'm just glad that I don't need a cane anymore.

Hera is twenty-one solans old now, and Jupter is nine. Jupiter is reaching the age where Mipedian start reflexively trying to turn invisible, so I've seen his outline shimmer several times when he hides from me. Isis and I are trying to help him get used to me, but the going is slow.

Hera, on the other hand, has become quite the rambunctious little Mipedian.

"Uncle Iflar's coming back!" Hera cheers as she dances around, her muge's cloak billowing around her. She **should** be having her lessons right now, but she's so wound up that Tiaane decided to have the lesson later. So instead my family is sitting in the living room having an early celebration, with Tiaane as a guest..

"Coming home on time, too," I grin. "Have I ever told you the story about the time he came back late from a campaign?"

"You haven't," Hera says as she sits cross-legged in front of me, "but Mom mentioned it a few times. Not a lot, though."

"I have not heard this story," Tiaane says.

A bit of story-telling should fix that.

-[]-[]-[]-

"So you and Daddy weren't married back then?" Hera asks when I get to the part about Theb-sarr inviting me to the royals' table.

"No, we weren't," Isis says. "It was his first time seeing me, and my first time speaking to him."

"Your first time actually seeing me was the day we Humans arrived in Perim, was it?" I grin.

Isis gives me a confused look. "How did you know that?"

"Just a guess," I lie. Really should have kept my mouth shut.

Hera pipes up, "So when I grow up I'll get married too?"

"When you find the right person who loves you and that you love back," I say.

Hera grins widely. "I'm going to marry Tiaane when I grow up then."

I try very, **very** hard not to laugh. I'm partially successful. Isis doesn't fare much better. Tiaane simply looks stunned.

Hera looks around innocently. "What?"

I lean forward a little and poke Hera's nose. "You're a little too young to be worrying about things like that. Besides, you don't really know what marriage is all about."

"I **do** know what it's about!" Hera says as she puts her hands on her hips.

I push down anxiety that starts bubbling up in my gut. "Oh? Then tell me."

Hera blinks, then starts picking at her claws. "Um... a mommy and a daddy live together, and they take care of little babies who grow up... um..."

Tiaane seems to have recovered. He leans forward and chuckles, "When you grow up, you'll want to marry someone closer to your own age. I'm almost five times older than you are. And I'm your teacher-"

"Relax, Tiaane," Isis says. "Little children always think they know who they'll marry."

"I'm **not** little," Hera pouts.

"Yes you are," Jupiter mutters from Isis's lap.

"What?" Hera spins around. "Oh, I'm going to get you!"

Jupiter leaps from Isis's lap and dashes for the door. Hera chases after him. I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts.

-[]-[]-[]-

Two hundred Mipedians. Two **hundred**. That's how many Iflar had rescued. Not only Mipedians, but Overworlders, Underworlders, and Danians as well, both Perim-natives and Humans..

Our relationship with the Danians might as well be an alliance now. Chaor delivered a surprising message of thanks. Maxxor, eh, we still haven't heard anything from him.

The most surprising things had yet to arrive, though, as I'm quickly finding out.

"You brought a **M'arrillian**!" Mudeenu roars at his adopted brother. "You brought one of those **things** from the Deepmines!"

Iflar folds his arms and glares at Mudeenu. "It was my decision to make. He- wait, she- no, they- whatever. The M'arrillian is one of the same ones that gave you information when you were tasked with rescuing Osiris. **Freely** gave you information, might I add."

I'd only been half-listening before, but my ears perk up when I hear Iflar stumble over his pronouns. "May I see this M'arrillian?"

Iflar raises an eye ridge at me, but replies, "Southwest medical tent."

I leave Mudeenu and Iflar to argue as I hurry to the tents. I find the right one and step in. A pair of light blue worm-like creatures are lying on a pair of cots, with a rather confused Mipedian doctor sitting nearby.

"Twins!" I cry out.

The worms' heads turn towards me. {it is prince osiris}

{i can see that, brother}

{hello your highness, you are-}

{too kind, coming to greet your-}

{former captors}

"Why are you here?" I ask. I almost don't care. The Twins were probably the most decent M'arrillian I had met.

{because we are injured}

{badly injured}

"I mean in Al Mipedim-" I begin before I realize what they had said. "Injured?"

{you were aa'une's personal-}

{prisoner and secret weapon}

{we were severely punished-}

{for our part in releasing you}

{we barely escaped execution-}

{though that might have been preferable}

The doctor presses his hands against the sides of his head. "How the heck are they doing that? Are they reading each other's minds?"

I ignore him. "What happened?" I ask the Twins.

{chained to the walls-}

{with no way to move}

{sometimes our bodies were cut open}

{though at least that was better than-}

{what some of the others who survived-}

{had to go through, though we were sometimes-}

{forced to watch}

"Watch what?" I ask before I can stop myself.

There's a long pause. {what part of aa'une's body glows brightest}

"Never mind," I almost shout. "I get it."

Another pause, this one quite uncomfortable. Then the Twins say, {you are very scary, prince osiris}

{absolutely terrifying}

"Huh?" I have no idea what they're talking about .

The worms glance each other, and then they suddenly start moving in unison. {{aa'une and phelphor are terrified, we told prince iflar that as well, they are terrified of you and what you can do, though they would not say what it **is** that you can do}}

I point at my chest. "Me?" Then again, Aa'une and Phelphor **do** know that I'm dreaming this whole world.

{{the fear is contagious,}} Twins continues. {{many now fear you, even if they have never met you}}

They stop moving in unison. {there are many rumors as to why-}

{you are feared so much}

{some say you can steal souls}

{others say that you are really a demon-}

{posing as a human, while some believe-}

{that you are cothica, and even pray using your-}

{name instead of cothica's}

{blasphemy}

{indeed}

{that was not an insult, we-}

{simply disapprove of the practice}

I feel a chill in the air. So an entire tribe of creatures are starting to fear me? I wonder how complicated **that** will make things.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Dishonored Son**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	89. The Dishonored Son

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Dishonored Son**

-[]-[]-[]-

"...and it seems to be true, Father," Iflar says. "The M'arrillians are **scared**. Many of them panicked when they saw us because they thought Osiris had come to take vengeance on them. Several immediately fell to the ground and started praying."

Mudeenu snorts. "Praying to a Human. Hah!"

Theb-sarr glares at Mudeenu, but continues speaking with Iflar. "Very interesting," he mutters. "Did any of them tell you why?"

"The M'arrillian I brought-"

Mudeenu growls. Theb-sarr sends another glare to shut him up.

Iflar repeats, "The M'arrillian I brought here says that the first creatures to fear Osiris were Aa'une and Phelphor. Something about Osiris, we don't know what, scares the living daylights out of them."

Theb-sarr turns to me. "Anything you wish to add to this, Osiris? Do you know why the M'arrillians are scared of you?"

My heart skips a beat. "I... won't answer that question."

Theb-sarr presses his eye ridges together. "Why not?"

Oh crap. "I... um..."

Enre-hep speaks up. "I know the reason." I feel my blood turn to ice.

Theb-sarr turns to the muge now. "And what can you tell me?"

Enre-hep smiles and says, "I can tell you that Aa'une and Phelphor have every legitimate reason to be afraid of His Highness."

A pause, then Theb-sarr speaks again. "So you're **not** going to tell me?"

Erne-hep nods. "I'm afraid that it would be inappropriate for any of us to know besides Osiris. The knowledge is, in fact, the very reason Aa'une and Phelphor fear Osiris."

Theb-sarr blinks. "I'm not understanding you, I'm afraid."

"What I'm suggesting," Enre-hep smirks as he leans forward a little in his seat, "is that we let the mysteries surrounding our friend remain mysteries. As long as they help us and hurt our enemies, we really shouldn't pry."

Theb-sarr is silent for a while. "Very well."

My heart stops trying to leap out of my throat. Mudeenu looks like he was just forced to swallow something very unpleasant. "Father, if-"

Theb-sarr raises his hand, and Mudeenu shuts up Theb-sarr turns back to Iflar and says, "So, what course of action do you suggest, given this information?"

Iflar stands up straight and clasps his hands behind his back. "I suggest we take advantage of this information. Prince Osiris should lead an army."

I **knew** Iflar was going to suggest that.

Mudeenu roars, "Now wait just a moment!"

Iflar and Theb-sarr turn their attention to Mudeenu.

Mudeenu stands up and points at me. "Him? Lead an army?"

Iiflar folds his arms in front of his chest. "I don't see why not."

"I do," Mudeenu hisses. "He keeps secrets from us. He helped release Phelphor. He let Phelphor open the Doors. Not to mention he spent ten solans with the M'arrillians. Who **knows** how much they twisted his mind?"

"Mudeenu," Theb-sarr says through clenched teeth.

Mudeenu doesn't seem to hear. He points a claw at my face. "This last solan he's been draining resources, sitting in the palace and doing absolutely nothing. This lazy, scheming, pitiful excuse for a creature shouldn't be anywhere **near** our armies."

"Mudeenu!" Theb-sarr roars.

"I'm not done!" Mudeenu roars back. He turns back to me. "Ever since the day you arrived in Perim, I knew you would be trouble. Nobody listens, though." He grits his teeth, and his hands clench into fists. "How does a wretch like you do what you've done? A king sees you the day you show up in Perim? Invited to sit with the royal family? **Joining** the royal family?" He grabs the front of my robe and growls, "Somehow, you're behind everything, and I won't let you manipulate us further-"

A sapphire-blue hand grabs Mudeenu's left shoulder, and another grabs a bunch of the fabric of his cape. The hand pulls.

_**RRRIP!**_

Mudeenu's eyes widen. He lets go of me and feels behind him. Then he slowly turns around.

Theb-sarr is standing at his full height. His eyes are shining white, and lightning is crackling from the glow. In his clenched hands is Mudeenu's torn cape. His muscles are twitching, and sparks of electricity dance across his scales with every twitch. His chest heaves and his nostrils flare.

"...Father?" Mudeenu says timidly.

Theb-sarr bares his teeth. "You are **not** my son," he growls. Then he flexes his arms and tears the cape in half.

Mudeenu stares in mute shock. Iflar looks frightened. Enre-hep is looking deliberately at the floor. I feel my heart racing again.

Theb-sarr bundles up the cape in his hands. "Osiris keeps secrets from me? Mudeenu, the night he arrived, you secretly tried to have him killed!" Theb-sarr tears the bundle in half again, then roars, "The only reason Maliph didn't succeed in carrying out your order was because **Isis stopped him right outside Osiris's door!**"

My heart races. Did I hear that correctly?

Theb-sarr tears the scraps of cloth again. "Osiris didn't willingly release Phelphor! In fact, Osiris was the one Phelphor had the most difficultly controlling! Osiris might have well prevented this whole war if **you** hadn't forced him to fight the M'arrillian **alone!**"

Mudeenu jaw trembles. "Father, I'm-"

"Do **not** call me **Father!**" Theb-sarr roars, and the room shakes along with his voice. "Ten years held captive by the M'arrillians! Tortured and raped and who **knows** what else, and **you're** the reason why it happened to him!" Theb-sarr shreds the cape to pieces, and the scraps of cloth burst into flames in his hands.

Mudeenu sinks to his knees. Tears are streaming down his face. "Fath- Y-Your Majesty..."

"Turn around, Mudeenu," Theb-sarr hisses. "Turn and face Osiris."

Mudeenu meekly stands and turns to face me. He looks terrified.

Theb-sarr growls, "Kneel to him."

"K-kneel?" Mudeenu stammer.

"**Kneel!**" Theb-sarr roars, and lightning crackles from his body. "Bow down and **beg** for forgiveness!"

Mudeenu chokes up, and he prostrates himself in front of me. He doesn't say anything. I can't say anything either.

Theb-sarr sits back down, and with a low voice he says, "Ten solans, Mudeenu. How will you repay it? I had let it slide before, what with Osiris's refusal to speak against you, but you have gone too far."

Mudeenu trembles. Iflar steps back. "Father, may I leave?" he asks shakily.

Theb-sarr nods. Iflar dashes for the door.

Theb-sarr turns back to Mudeenu. "Ten solans for ten solans would not be enough. Osiris was completely at Aa'une's mercy during that time. By all rights you should be at Osiris's mercy, but that is exactly it. Do you know what Osiris would give you if your punishment was up to him?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. Mudeenu doesn't say anything.

"Exactly that," Theb-sarr growls. "Mercy. He may have some form of punishment, but **far** lighter than you deserve. So I say this." He points at Mudeenu. "You owe Osiris ten solans of his life. You will repay him with **seventy** of your own, as a common servant."

Mudeenu's body twitches, but he says nothing.

Theb-sarr folds his arms. "We are done here. Iflar, you may come back in."

I don't see Iflar return. I don't hear them speak. All I can look at is the broken Mipedian in front of me.

"I-I'm sorry... P-Prince Osiris..." Mudeenu whispers.

I can't make myself answer him.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Efforts Combined  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	90. The Efforts Combined

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Efforts Combined**

-[]-[]-[]-

"_**We will be his army," the Mipedians say.**_

Mudeenu was stripped of his rank. This left a group of soldiers without a leader, a squad that His Majesty very quickly put me in charge of. Not quite an army yet, but there's no shortage of volunteers.

"Minimum age restrictions still apply," I can hear the Mipedian physician outside the examination tent say.

"I'm forty solans old!" a young Mipedian voice says.

The physician sighs. "Your record clearly states that you are thirty-nine, and not even a few days from forty or anything like that."

"You can't keep me from joining the army when I'm only a few months under," the volunteer protests.

I stand up from my chair in the tent and excuse myself. The examinations will do perfectly fine for a while without me supervising. I pull aside the tent flap and step out.

The physician sees me and bows. The volunteer sees the Mipedian do so, then turns and bows as well. "Your Highness," the young Mipedian mutters, "please let me join your army."

"Rise," I say, and the Mipedian straightens up. I look up and down at him, then say, "Why do you want to join?"

"I want to kill some filthy M'arrillians," the volunteer spits.

I press my lips together. "Walk with me." I turn and head for the city gate, and the young Mipedian follows me.

We walk in silence for a while. When we reach the gates, I stop, and the Mipedian stops as well. I turn to him and ask, "What's your name?"

"Owayki, after the ghost-warrior Owayki," the Mipedian says with pride.

I wonder if this Mipedian is a descendant of Owayki. "Well then, Owayki." I point out at the gate. "Say an army of M'arrillians is heading this way. What would you do?"

Owayki mimes drawing a sword and pointing it forward. "I head out to meet them."

"And you plan to kill them all?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"They deserve it," he spits.

I resist the urge to sigh in disappointment. "A coral warrior stands in front of you. His chest is plated with violet crystals, and his eyes glow with amber light."

"I slit the wretch's throat," Owayki grins.

"A wretch?" I ask. "Why do you call him that?"

Owayki raises an eye ridge at me. "He's a filthy M'arrillian. Who cares what happens to him?"

"The M'arrillians do," I say.

"Well, that coral-warrior can suck my d***," the Mipedian says.

"Funny you should say that," I mutter as I trace a finger around my neck-

-\/-\/-\/-

_Around my neck is a set of chains, freshly tightened after almost being taken off. But the chains are nothing, nothing in comparison to what I'm seeing._

_A kha'rall made of violet crystal and glowing amber eyes kneels in front of Aa'une, shaking. Aa'une looks down at him furiously, and he growls, "Try to set the Human loose? K'yall or Pah'ziq, which one told you to do so?"_

_The kha'rall trembles, but he lifts his face up and stares directly into Aa'une's eyes. "I will not say."_

_Aa'une growls, and the kha'rall's body spasms. His voice drones emotionlessly, "Both, my Oligarch."_

"_So," Aa'une snarls, "just following orders, correct?"_

_The kha'rall violently shakes his head and stares at Aa'une defiantly. "No."_

_Aa'une blinks. "**What?**"_

"_This is **wrong**," the kha'rall says. "What you're doing to this Human is wrong. What you are doing to the **tribe** is wrong."_

_Aa'une's eyes narrow. "I will give you one chance to save yourself, scum."_

_The kha'rall spits. "You are not fit to be Oli-"_

_Aa'une grabs the top of the kha'rall's head with one hand and tears away his own loincloth with the other, then pulls the kha'rall's head forward to his waist. The kha'rall punches and kicks while Aa'une grabs his head with both hands and repeatedly pulls him forward, growling and snarling with each thrust-_

-\/-\/-\/-

"...and so I watched that kha'rall slowly choke to death," I mutter, still tracing my finger around my neck. "Aa'une didn't stop until he was finished, long after the kha'rall had died, and then he left the creature's body in my cell as a warning to everyone else until the stink was so much that he had it disposed of."

I turn to Owayki. He is staring at me in mute horror. I say, "But why should we care about that wretch, right? He was scum, unfitting to think about, an evil creature **just** because he was a M'arrillian. He got what he deserved, right? An evil creature like **all** M'arrillians?"

The Mipedian stands completely still, then he slowly shakes his head.

I draw a sword from my belt and take a hold of its blade before presenting the hilt to the Mipedian. "So tell me, Owayki. Are you prepared to go out and fight? Are you ready to end the lives of a thousand M'arrillians, to make a thousand widows, widowers, and orphans? Are you ready to have their blood on your hands?"

Owayki takes a slow step backwards. "N-no..." he stammers.

I sheathe my sword. "I apologize for telling you that tale," I say. "I should have thought of a better one. I **have** thought of better ones, when interviewing other volunteers."

"It was my fault," Owayki quickly says. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

I smile. "Let the men and women with hardened hearts fight this one, kid. If you still want to fight when you're older, make sure you have a **good** reason."

-[]-[]-[]-

"_**We will enhance his form," the Danians say.**_

"All right, whose bright idea was this?" Manuel's voice says from far away.

I open my eyes. I'm so used to these therapies that waking up from them is not a problem anymore. The actual infection is absolutely terrifying still, but it's a small price to pay.

I pull my arm out from under the blanket and take a look. I'm no longer the skinny man I had been weeks ago, since Manuel finally admitted that I had to look like a leader as fast as I could, though he insisted that he would determine the appropriate rate of muscle growth. And so, in these few weeks, I've developed a musculature that puts many Humans to shame and even starts to rival the average Underworlder.

"Seriously, what is going on up in your insect brains?" Manuel fumes.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Manuel turns around. "You woke up fast," he mutters.

"What's wrong?" I repeat.

"Technically, nothing," Manuel says. "In my opinion... well, want to take a look between your legs?"

...What?

I flip the blanket off, expecting the worst. It's not what I expect, though.

One of the controllers hisses, "You wanted a proud hero's body for him, Doctor, while still being safe for a Human. We simply started to give His Highness the endowment that a proud Human hero should have."

"I wasn't talking about making his **penis** bigger!" Manuel screams.

"Manuel?" I say. "Do you think you could say that a little louder? I think there are M'arrillians in the Deepmines that haven't heard you yet. Besides, it's not that much of a difference." At least from before my capture. Being in the Deepmines did not help things down there.

Manuel lowers his voice. "Be honest with me, bugs. You're just doing this for your own entertainment."

The first controller shakes his head. "I simply did what I thought you were asking."

"I as well," says the second.

The third twiddles his thumbs.

Manuel, the other two controllers and I stare at the Danian. Manuel says, "And you?"

The Danian clicks, "I... may have fantasized letting Prince Osiris mount me a few times."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," I mutter. "Back to the important matter, are my muscles and tendons equally strengthened? May I begin my exercise program without risking harming myself?"

"You may," the first controller says.

-[]-[]-[]-

"_**We will craft his tools," the Underworlders say.**_

"Prince Osiris, leading an army, hm?" Chaor chuckles. "This will be interesting, considering that some of the M'arrillians pray to you when they fight and while they rot in our prisons."

"Congratulations on reclaiming Underworld City, Chaor," I say as I sit down. "And what of Lord Van Bloot?"

"He escaped, the worm," Chaor growls.

Lilth sighs. "At least he's no longer a threat. I doubt he'll want to return to the M'arrillians with Aa'une having gone absolutely bats***."

Chaor folds his arms. "Back to what I was saying when you walked in. Captain, hm?"

"Indeed," I sigh. "There's some confusion over whether it's Captain Michael or Captain Osiris."

"Have you got a suit of armor yet?" Chaor asks.

I shake my head. "We aren't sure what size I will be when the Danians' treatment finishes, so we're holding off on making armor."

Chaor grins. "Ulmar!"

A short green goblin-like creature with a white lab coat and an exposed pink brain hurries into Chaor's tent. "Yes, my Lord Chaor?" he says in a screechy voice.

"I want you to show Prince Osiris that battlegear you were developing," Chaor says.

"Right away, Lord Chaor." Ulmar darts out of the tent.

"He's a lot creepier in the flesh," I note.

Lilth laughs. "I know, right?"

Ulmar returns shortly with a bizarre looking helmet strapped to his head, and an assortment of battlegear follows him on a self-driving cart. "Take one of these and use it on me," Ulmar says.

I blink. "Uh, no."

Chaor laughs and lights his hand on fire. "It's not a problem, Osiris." He fires a spray of napalm at Ulmar. My heart stops for a moment. The flaming liquid, however, stops moving inches away from the short creature and falls to the ground.

"See?" Ulmar beams. "Kinetic nullification fields absorb the energy of a moving object headed on a collision course with the wearer, deflecting and stopping projectiles."

Lilth blinks. "What?"

I roll my eyes. "Ulmar made a force field generator."

"Oooh," Lilth says.

"And if I..." I lean forward and try to punch Ulmar's shoulder. I feel absolutely no resistance, and my fist connects with his shoulder. He stumbles back. "Sorry," I say quickly.

"Yes, there **is** that flaw at the moment.," Ulmar grunts as he rubs his shoulder. "Melee strikes seem to be completely unaffected, but I am quickly coming up with a solution!"

"Well?" Chaor grins. "While I may not be a fan of armor, I can see how a squishy Human like yourself could benefit from this."

"I like it," I grin.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Reflection in the Mirror**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	91. The Reflection in the Mirror

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Reflection in the Mirror**

-[]-[]-[]-

I am about to become a warrior. Many solans have I trained in the art of sword, shield, and lightning. Before my capture, when I was merely Prince Osiris, training under Mudeenu. Those Lessons well up inside me as I hold my weapons in my hands.

My greatsword. A two-handed blade with a sheath that straps to my back. Heavy enough to split stone in two with a single blow. Designed the cleave through the hardiest of tissue, flesh, bone, and whatnot.

My straight longswords and curved parrying dagger. Swords hang from either hip, and dagger strapped to the side of my leg. Two-weapon combat to unbalance my foe, with several ways to hold them in battle.

My cyclance. A spear stored behind my right arm. Has applications in close combat, but its primary use it for firing quick bursts of electricity and wind.

My aqua shield. Strapped to my left arm and normally left unpowered. Designed with defense in mind, but with it attached to my strong arm I have a tendency to use it as a weapon in its own right rather than as a shield.

Finally, my helm. Dark blue steel, an almost Y-shaped opening at the front that allows me to see, and a pair of curved horns. Of all the tools and battlegear available to me, **this** is the most important. Ulmar's creation is more or less complete and integrated with the helmet, granting me the equivalent of a full suit of armor when I wear it, with none of the restrictions in motion that physical armor would give.

I look forwards at the mirror in front of me, then turn the helmet around in my hands and slide it over my head. I buckle the securing strap under my chin, then put my arms at my side. I hear the hum of Ulmar's contraption activating, and I feel a tingle move across my skin as the invisible armor of force covers it.

In my reflection, a red light shines through the dark opening in the front of the helmet, and what appears to be deep red and black flames pour from what looks like a pair of glowing eyes. I exhale firmly, and through the opening in front of my mouth erupts a small flame. The helmet is not only a defense, but an offensive weapon as well.

A horned dark-blue helmet with glowing red eyes. A rectangular strip of red cloth hanging in front of my privates. Weapons strapped everywhere. That's all I wear. I look like some kind of primitive, barbaric, mostly-naked demonic warrior. I wonder how well it will strike fear.

Through the mirror, I can see someone approach behind me. It's Isis. She steps closer to me and asks, "May I hold you?"

I close my eyes, inhale through my nose, and exhale through my mouth. "I'm ready," I say.

Isis wraps he arms around my bare chest and holds me tightly. I can feel the faintest glimmer of a dark memory, but I shove it away. Isis mutters, "Eventually I'll be able to just walk up and give you a hug without having to warn you first."

I stroke a hand across her arms. "I can't wait for that day," I say. "I can't wait for a surprise hug, an unexpected kiss. I can't wait for the day that Hera can grab my wrist and drag me over to see some amazing thing. I can't wait until a crowded street is a simply crowded street, rather than a flashback waiting to happen."

Isis carefully rests her forehead on my shoulder. "Just live that long for now, okay?"

Yes... Live that long...

A M'arrillian battalion has been spotted not far from Al Mipedim. My army marches out at noon tomorrow, ready to meet the battalion when night falls. My first battle leading troops into combat, and it's against an army lead by none other than Phelphor.

"I **will** come back this time," I whisper as I reach back and stroke Isis's cheek. "I promise."

-[]-[]-[]-

In a valley created by a set of sand dunes, a large central tent is surrounded by a circle of smaller tents, with another circle of tents surrounding that. Kha'rall march the borders of the camp, but otherwise the camp looks asleep.

The crystal I'm holding quietly hisses, "Orders, Captain Osiris?"

Freeing the M'arrillians' minions is **not** the ultimate goal of this encounter. In fact, it's unlikely this camp has any to free to begin with. "Do you see spectral viewers on any of the patrols?"

"Each squad I have seen appears to have a kha'rall wielding those," comes the answer. "Make that two kha'rall in each squad."

That's going to nullify Mipedian invisibility advantages somewhat. "Okay, can anyone see a way to bypass these kha'rall without alerting anyone?"

Several voices reply in the negative. I bite my lower lip. "Which directions are the kha'rall looking?"

"Every direction," a voice sighs, "including up."

There goes **that** idea. "Does anyone see a way to take one of the squads out without alerting them?"

"They're coral-warriors, Captain," someone says. "We don't have enough strength to knock even one out in a single blow from this range, much less four at the same time silently."

"Killing them would be even harder," another voice says.

I hold the crystal tightly in my hands and clench my teeth together. "Mugic will give us away, as will disabling their battlegear."

Several minutes pass with this back and forth, until finally I decide that if a stealthy approach won't work, then maybe something a little more direct. At least, something that **looks** more direct. "All units, prepare to infiltrate. Time to see exactly how scary I am."

"Captain?" comes a voice over the crystal in my hand. "Are you going to just walk up to them?"

"Pretty much," I say. "While everyone is focusing on me, get in and grab Phelphor. And make sure your mind clasps are on!"

Everyone answers in the affirmative. I take a deep breath, move to the peak of the dune I'm on, then slide down the slope. I reach the bottom, stand up, and slowly walk towards the camp. I'll be spotted in three, two-

"Intruder!" a gravelly voice calls out, and a bright light suddenly shines at me. I see a brief glimpse of something solid flying at me, only to ricochet off the force created by my helmet. Through the light I can see many kha'rall closing in towards my position.

I put up a hand and shout, "Halt!" A plume of fire erupts from my helmet as I speak.

It's a **ton** more effective than I had anticipated. Every kha'rall stops, looking somewhat perplexed.

Before they can recover, I say amidst most streams of flames, "I am Osiris. Many of you may have heard of me."

By the way their glowing eyes widen, I am guessing that they **all** have heard of me. Their weapons are still aimed in my direction, but I can see their confidence waning.

I take a step forward. "I come not for you, but for another creature in this camp. His name is Phelphor."

"He's come to kill Phelphor," one of the kha'rall blurts in a frightened voice. "He's **only** here for Phelphor!" He calls out, "If we let you have him, will you let us go?"

Before I answer, the kha'rall next to the one that had spoken aims a weapon at the first kha'rall's head and-

I shudder inwardly as a shot rings out, and a coral-warrior slumps to the ground. The one that had killed him steps forward. "I am Ptar'yyk, and we will not let you pass."

I force my voice not to waver. "Then I will have to cut you down," I say as I reach back for my greatsword.

A shot rings out, and I feel a spray of sharp metal approach, then reflect away from me. I grab the hilt of my sword and draw it, holding it in front of me.

"It didn't even touch him!" one of the kha'rall cries out.

Several kha'rall drop their weapons and bow to the ground. One cries out, "Oh Osiris, spare us from your wrath-!"

"He's not a god!" Ptar'yyk shouts. "He's a mortal Human. A **lone** Human!"

I hear a blast of electricity, and a voice from the crystal in my belt mutters, "We, ah, may have just given away our position."

"More intruders!" Ptar'yyk roars. "You useless lot, wake the camp! You lot, confront the new intruders!" A see a blade of ice grow from the kha'rall's wrist. "I'll handle this false god myself!"

The kha'rall scatter. I see a large shape lumbering towards me. I lift my sword and swing it down-

_**CRASH!**_

My blade meets a blade of ice over the kha'rall's head. Ptar'yyk flings my sword aside and attempts to stab my stomach. His sword abruptly stops in the air an inch away from my skin. I twist and use the momentum from his deflection to swing my sword in and arc around me and at the kha'rall again.

My blade digs into the creature's stone-like body, directly in the side of his chest, and he cries out in pain. I see a flash of metal as he aims a weapon at my face. His finger flexes, and I see a metal dart stop just before it would hit between my eyes.

"What kind of armor is this?" Ptar'yyk growls and he steps back and wrenches my sword from my grip, still stuck in his body a good ways in. He swings his sword-arm in an arc over his head towards me, where it freezes an inch above my helmet. I dart forward and raise my left arm up, then activate my aqua shield as I swing it down. The projected energy of the shield spring to life while I swing, and it hits the hilt of my greatsword, still stuck in the side of the kha'rall.

...A level functions when an input force applied to one end transfers to the other, the output force, with the fulcrum as a point of rotation for the whole tool. The closer the fulcrum is to the end of the lever, the more power applied to the output force over a shorter distance. In this case, the input force is my own swing, added with the energy of the aqua shield. The fulcrum is the point where my sword meets the stone body of the kha'rall. The fulcrum is very close to the kha'rall's body itself.

_**CRACK!**_

I see a fissure break its way across Ptar'yyk's stone chest as he cries out in pain. I grab the hilt of my sword, draw it back, and swing hard.

I feel little resistance as my sword cuts through the kha'rall. His upper body, consisting of a head, arms, and the upper half of a chest, lifts into the air a little, then crashes heavily to the ground. His lower body, meaning the lower half of a chest, a stomach, and four legs, stumbles to the side and falls to the ground. Both halves stop twitching rather quickly.

I look around. Things seem to have gotten very messy, very quickly. Kha'rall and fluidmorphers and chieftains are everywhere, locked in combat with my Mipedian army. I don't **see** any casualties on either side yet, beside the kha'rall I just killed. Speaking of...

I raise my sword again and swing it down of the kha'rall's neck, which breaks easily. Then I lift the creature's head into the air, and I let out a roar. The sound of my voice amplifies and resounds throughout the camp.

**That** got **everyone's** attention. When all eyes turn towards me, both M'arrillian and Mipedian, I bellow, "Any of you who wishes to fight against **me**, Prince Osiris of the Mipedians, look and see what fate has in store for you! Fight, and die! Flee, and I will ensure that my army will not pursue you!"

Five seconds. It took five seconds for it to register in my foes' heads what I had said. First one by one, then in droves, many M'arrillians run for the hills.

I drop the kha'ralls head behind me as I take a step forward. I do not see Phelphor. Did he run? No, I would have seen that. He's still here.

The remaining M'arrillians quickly realize how outnumbered they are now. Many drop to the ground and start whispering prayers. Others turn and run. Some try to fight and are quickly cut down.

"Where is Phelphor?!" I shout.

Many hands point towards the central tent. I walk over there and motion for a group of soldiers to surround it while I head for the tent's entrance. I pull the tent flap aside-

**Thwip!**

A spear of ice stops directly in front of my chest, then falls noiselessly onto the sand. I look at it, then up at a trembling red, frog-like creature. His hands are pointed at me, with more ice spikes protruding from his fingers.

"That was close," I say as I close the tent flap behind me. "If that had hit me, the whole **world** might have ended."

Phelphor's eyes widen. "N-no, you can't be him."

I reach my hand up to the buckle keeping my helmet in place. This is very risky, but he just saw an ice spear stop right in front of me. He won't fire another while he thinks I can block it. I undo the buckle and pull my helmet off.

Phelphor's hands start shaking violently, and he takes a few steps back. "M-Michael," he mutters.

I grin widely before sliding the helmet back on my head. "Your battalion has scattered. You have been abandoned." I put my hand out, as if offering him to take my hand. "Submit, and be taken captive. Run, and I **swear** that your death will be the most painful, drawn out experience that I can **dream** of."

Phelphor flinches at the word dream. He looks as if he's about to die from fear.

He needs more encouragement. "There is nowhere that you can run where I can't find you, no firepower that you can muster that I won't face. If you wish to fight me, know this..." I exhale violently to create a plume of fire. "There are only two outcomes to our fight. Either I kill you, or you kill me and all of Perim vanishes."

We want Phelphor alive for now. Still, I find myself almost hoping that he'll put up resistance. I have so many weapons that I have not yet used. Maybe I'll use them **all** on him-

"I surrender," Phelphor whimpers.

I feel my bloodlust fade as Phelphor lowers his hands and sinks to his knees.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Blood-Stained Cape**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**To those of you who wish to have a better picture of what the helmet looks like, turn your attention to:**

** quazerflame . deviantart art/Fourteen-Times-in-Perim-Helm-of-Osiris-3679690 43**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	92. The Blood-Stained Cape

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Blood-Stained Cape**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Only information we already had, then," Theb-sarr sighs.

We already knew that the M'arrillians were trying to construct a heat cannon at Glacier Plains in an attempt to flood Perim. With the knowledge that many Humans brought with them from Earth about the show and the game, we were already prepared for such a possibility, so any construction started in the northern reaches of the Overworld had been quickly sabotaged.

We also already knew that Aa'une was pushing for obtaining Lake Blakeer, or at least we had assumed that. That location had been the site of the final battle of the war in the show, a battle that came **very** close to turning out badly. The show and the card game disagree on what exactly makes Lake Blakeer so important to Aa'une, but we do know that he shouldn't get his hands on it.

All in all, capturing Phelphor to interrogate him only confirmed what we already knew.

"At least we have him," I say, shifting uncomfortably in my saddle.

Theb-sarr is riding the lead kozorr, a great brute of a creature that can manage the Mipedian king's weight. Theb-sarr is leading the company at a decent pace, but it will still be several days before we reach our destination.

"Yes," Theb-sarr sighs. "At least we have him."

I touch the top of my kozorr's head and drag my fingers down its spine, and it slows down a little. Using a voice command right now might make the entire company slow. I release my touch on the beast's head when I'm riding level with Enre-hep.

"Hey," I mutter in a low voice. "I need you to help me look inside Phelphor's head."

Enre-hep glances around. "It will be difficult with all these potential witnesses."

I raise my eyebrows, and in a louder voice I say, "I have a bit of a headache. Could you help me out?"

Enre-hep forces a grin away, then reaches out with his right hand to touch my left temple-

-[]-[]-[]-

{shoW mE phelphoR,} Enre-hep's voice sounds through a landscape of crystal flowers floating on black water.

The flowers start to fly out of the water and scatter in every direction, crashing into each other and shattering, then reforming elsewhere. This goes on for a bit before, suddenly, a single blossom rests on the water, far away from all the others.

Time to double-check. Show me Phelphor.

The blossom shivers in the black water, creating tiny ripples around it. Enre-hep's spectral gold hand reaches out to touch the very tip of the blossom-

-[]-[]-[]-

Don't think about anything, Michael could be watching.

Oh Cothica, where are they taking me? I answered all their questions. I know they won't let me go. Maybe I'm to be kept for trade? No... Aa'une wouldn't trade for me... I'm damaged goods.

Don't think about anything, Michael could be watching.

These chains are so tight. This... this **box**, it's so cramped. I can't tell where we're going.

Don't think about anything, Michael could be watching.

Am I going to die? Cothica! I don't want to die! Please! Save me!

Don't think about anything, Michael could be watching.

...Am I being taken to Mount Pillar? No, please, no! The Danians hate me more than anything! They'll tear me apart!

Michael! I know you're listening! Please! Anywhere but Mount Pillar!

-[]-[]-[]-

Enre-hep abruptly pulls his hand away. "Th-that's quite a headache..."

Well, **now** I have a headache. I drag my finger down my kozorr's spine, and it slows down again. I lift my finger until I reach an odd-looking wagon being pulled by a pair of kozorr.

"Malvadine," I say.

The left rider of the pair looks up. "Your Highness," he nods.

"Has my package arrived yet?" I ask.

"Package?" Malvadine looks around, then picks up a bundle at his feet. "You mean this?"

"That's it," I say, holding my hand out.

Malvadine hands me the bundle. I unwrap it and give it a shake, and the golden, bloodstained cape inside flows out. I tie it around my neck and hang it over my shoulders.

"Kozorr swap," I say.

Malvadine and I switch places, and I turn towards the wagon. The other rider will keep the two beasts in check while I'm inside. I unlock the door, open it, and step inside.

Phelphor looks up and blinks. His wrists are chained to the walls of the wagon, and his ankles are chained to the back, forcing him to kneel with his arms spread out. His armor has been stripped from him, leaving him naked.

I close the door behind me, and suddenly the only light in the room is the red light provided by my helmet, the glowing, flaming pair of eyes it makes me appear to have. I sit down in the chair across from Phelphor and fold my arms.

Phelphor recoils. "M-Michael-"

"You will call me Prince Osiris, Captain Osiris, or Your Highness," I say firmly.

"Y-Your Highness..." Phelphor stammers. I see his head bow down.

"Look at me," I say.

Phelphor lifts his head, but stays silent.

I slowly take a deep breath, then say, "Mount Pillar."

"No... No!" Phelphor leans forward, and the chains rattle. "You can't take me there!"

"Yes we can," I say.

"Why!?" Phelphor is trembling now. "Please don't take me there! I'll do anything!"

"Anything," I say in a deadpan.

"Anything!" Phlphor shouts.

I lean forward and glare at Phelphor's eyes. "Give Piabo his life back."

Phelphor blinks. "Wh-who's Piabo?"

I lean farther forward. "Phelphor, I order you to look inside my mind, at the place where my dreams reside. If you try anything funny, I will eject you from my mind, and you will obtain no answers to your questions."

Phelphor trembles, and his eyes focus on mine-

-[]-[]-[]-

A crystal sphere hangs in a black void. A red spectral hand float near it, tense and recoiling. {WH-WHaT Do you WiSH To See-}

Show me Phelphor.

The crystal rotates in the air for a while, then stops. I make as if to reach forward, and a black crystal hand forms where my own hand would be.

{y-you aRe TaKiNG CoNTRoL oF My PoWeRS!} Phelphor's voice cries out in alarm.

I touch the section of sphere pointing directly at my mind's eye-

-[]-[]-[]-

There's the Danian. I can see his antennae quiver. A hive call. Someone speaks inside his mind. {DO not LET phelphor REACH the DOORS}

There's no time to react. I drop the tent I'm unpacking, form a knife with frozen water, and bury it in the mandiblor's gut. His eyes open wide, and he falls backwards.

I look at the knife in my hand, then at the mandiblor. I grin. "Well, looks like I can stop pretending." I raise my arm up.

The Danian cries out as I slit his stomach open and pull his exoskeleton apart-

-[]-[]-[]-

I push Phelphor from my mind and glare at him. "Him. **He** was Piabo."

"A-a mandiblor?" Phelphor laughs nervously. "Th-that's **it**?" More laughter. "How **pathetic!** I thought the Danians were furious, that **Sarah** was furious, because of my deception! A lowly **mandiblor?!**" Phelphor's body is now **shaking** with laughter.

I don't remember standing up. I don't remember grabbing my dagger. The next thing I realize, I'm pressing Phelphor's chin up and pressing the tip of my dagger against his throat.

There's silence for a long time. I see red, and not just from the light of my helm. I want to kill right now, just slit this wretch's throat right here. The journey we've made so far will be a waste, but I can't **stand** it! Phelphor has to-!

...Wait... I... I can feel his presence in my head. I can hear his voice. {HuRRy uP aND KiLL The M'aRRiLLiaN. oH CoTHiCa, HuRRy! KiLL Me QuiCKLy!}

"No," I say as I pull my weapon away from his neck. "You won't die so easily."

I let go of his chin. Phelphor looks terrified again.

I sit back down. "At the time when you killed Piabo, you were technically under the protection of the Danians. You will stand trial at Mount Pillar, and **they** will decide what happens to you."

I stand up and remove my cape, then drape it over the chair. I leave it for Phelphor, who might not be able to see it in the darkness, but he'll know it's there. Maybe he'll figure out where the blood came from on it.

"Where's your cape?" Malvadine asks as I step out.

"Keeping Phelphor company," I mutter. "Maybe he'll try apologizing to it."

"Your Highness?" Malvadine looks concerned. "Osiris, you don't look too good."

I don't **feel** good either.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Memories of Passing  
**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	93. The Memories of Passing

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Memories of Passing**

-[]-[]-[]-

Last time we went to Mount Pillar, Phelphor was riding in the lap of luxury. Figuratively speaking, at least. Now, as we approach Mount Pillar, Phelphor is riding in chains.

I long ago retrieved my cape from the wagon. It's a symbol of what I've done for the Danians, so it's best I wear it now.

The outer walls of the wagon the M'arrillian is in have been removed, leaving only a frame that he's still chained to. It's... uncomfortable to see him kneeling there, actually. Still, we're doing it for the Danians. They want Phelphor paraded naked through their roads, helpless and humiliated.

...There isn't going to be a trial, I think to myself. Not that there needs to be, Phelphor's guilty as hell. Still, the closer we get to the gates, the more anxious I become. Isn't this a monstrous thing to do too? Shouldn't we be civil about this?

"You look troubled," Theb-sarr says as the gates open in front of us.

"I **am** troubled," I say. "I can't shake the feeling that we're stooping to the M'arrillians' level."

Theb-sarr can't meet my gaze. "It's barbaric, true. Still, can you say without hesitating that he doesn't deserve it?"

"Good point..." I mutter.

We cross the threshold, and now we are riding into Mount Pillar proper.

Danians bow as we pass. They bow to **me**. It's **still** bizarre.

I force myself not to glance backwards, not to look at Phelphor. My imagination is filling in the blanks, though, the M'arrillian either glancing around in terror or fruitlessly trying not to let anyone see him.

Soon we're surrounded by Danians, some to thank me, others to jeer at our captive. Mandiblors and nobles, warriors and muges, controllers and everyone else. Some reach out to touch me, and eventually I become so numb to it that they stop triggering my darker memories.

"Smile," Theb'sarr whispers.

I stare at him and point at my helmet. "They can't see my face," I mutter.

"Your eyes," Theb-sarr says. "Smile with your eyes."

I force a grin on my face.

"Never mind," Theb-sarr says quickly, "go back to what you were doing before. At least wave, though. You're a symbol of hope and justice to the Danian people, so act like it."

It's a **ton** easier to "just smile and wave" when you feel like you deserve it. Right now, I'm finding it rather difficult.

-[]-[]-[]-

The highest of the nobles are gathered in Queen Illexia's throne room, all wearing identity concealing cloaks besides the queen herself. The only two non-Danians here are Phelphor and myself, Phelphor as the criminal having a sentence placed on him, and myself as an honored guest. The closest thing to a trial that Phelphor will be receiving is about to begin.

"Phelphor," says Illexia in a firm voice. Similar to the queen of an ant colony, she's massive. Her upper body is about the size of an ordinary creature, but behind her is a body that fills most of the room. I can't even see behind her, so for all I know she's laying eggs as she speaks.

Phelphor, trussed up in chains and forced to kneel, stares at the ground. "Your Majesty..." he says quietly. He looks pitiful, but nobody's offering him any pity.

"Eleven solans ago, you murdered a young mandiblor named Piabo." I can almost **feel** the acid in her voice. "How do you answer?"

I can see Phelphor's eyes harden from the angle I'm sitting at. "You say **I** killed him?"

...Really? I can already tell where Phelphor is trying to go with this.

There are hisses from the nobles. Illexia narrows her eyes. "Explain."

Phelphor continues to stare at the ground. "You see a Danian dead, and you immediately assume that **I** am the killer. This Human here, though, what makes you think **he** isn't responsible?"

Exactly what I thought he was pulling.

Illexia sighs. "And pray tell me your logic?"

Phelphor looks up. "This mandiblor and I get separated. Prince Osiris stumbles on the mandiblor, and he thinks, 'say, I could pin his death on the M'arrillian, and then the Danians will love me,' so he kills him and makes it look like he gave a s*** about it-"

"Piabo told us otherwise," Illexia says.

Phelphor's face goes from a careful neutral expression to one of complete bafflement. "What?"

Illexia folds her arms. "We have ways of communicating with our dead."

Now Phelphor's face goes from bafflement to terror.

"And just so everyone involved with passing judgment is informed," Illexia adds, "shall we have him speak to us again?"

Many nobles nod, and a curtain opens to reveal- Oh dear God, that's Piabo. His body, anyway, inside a glass casket, preserved and laid out as if he was sleeping. There's even the same blanket and pillow that I had left for him.

A team of cloaked Danians pushes the casket into the room, then all but one leaves. The one that remained behind raises a hand, which starts to glow. "Child of the hive," he says, "return one last time, that you might tell us your last tale."

I expect a dramatic display of power. Light dimming, lightning cracking, ghostly fires. Calling spirits seems like it should look as powerful as it really is. It's not dramatic, though, at least not in the way I'd been thinking.

A solid green Danian appears in front of all of us, as if he'd simply walked into the room. Phelphor cries out in shock, and I jolt in my seat. Then I recognize the figure's shape. It's Piabo's spirit.

"Piabo," Illexia says, "will you show us your last hours one last time? This will be the last time we will disturb your rest."

Piabo's spirit closes its eyes-

-[]-[]-[]-

My twenty-sixth solan started today. It's not that important of a milestone, but still, it's another solan. After my duties guarding the Doors I'll be twenty-seven.

The Humans would call me a teen now, if I was still at Mount Pillar. Thirteen years old, whatever a year is. Maybe it's two solans. But yeah, thirteen, so I guess that's where the word teen came from.

"Hurry up!" Phelphor says. "Or at least give me the map!"

Oops, I'm thinking too much again. I pick up the pace.

It's so **odd**, having all this room in my head. Normally I can feel the buzz of the hive, but now it's silent. I'm so far away from everyone else. I'll be able to hear a strengthened hive call, no doubt, but everyone's surface thoughts are too far away to hear anymore. Well, Phelphor's close enough, but he's not a real Danian, so I can't feel **his** thoughts.

"How far is Jade Pillar?" Phelphor asks.

I take the map from my pouch and unfold it. "Just a couple hours' walk away."

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm preparing the fire, while Phelphor's setting up the tent. He's got his armor off, so I've got quite a nice view of his body.

I wonder if he'd be interested. Then again, Lady Sarah would probably mind. Humans tend to get weird about sex, with those things they call monogamy and heterosexuality. They're not Danians, though, so I guess it's okay for them to think that way. Most everyone in Perim thinks that way besides us Danians.

Maybe in the morning we can ride on the mowercycle I saw earlier. Then again, there's only room for one rider. Best I don't mention it.

This flint and steel isn't cooperating. I wish I could create flames in my hand, **that** would get this fire started quickly. I strike harder, and finally the kindling begins to burn. I add some fuel to the fire-

{DO not LET phelphor REACH the DOORS}

I blink. A hive call. Phelphor? Don't question, just obey. The map, it will burn, I just need to take it out without Phelphor noticing-

I feel a sharp pain in my stomach.

Phelphor is standing over me. He's holding a strange knife, covered in blood. My blood. He looks at the knife, then at me. He grins. "Well, looks like I can stop pretending," he says. He raises his right arm up-

Ancestors help me! He just cut my stomach open! I can see him pull my exoskeleton apart! He's stabbing my insides!

-[]-[]-[]-

He's covered me with the tent. Just carved me up and left me here to die...

Minutes pass... or is it hours...? I can't tell...

I hear a clang of metal. I try to raise my body up, but I hurt too much...

The tent fabric jostles, then is pulled away. A black figure stands above me. It's holding a knife or a dagger.

I feel my breath catch in my throat. Is this that Grim Reaper that Humans talk about?

The figure sets aside the weapon in its hand and pulls off its helmet. A Human man, not the Grim Reaper. His face is twisted with shock and concern. "What happened?" he asks.

"Ph-Phelphor..." I answer in a high voice, "h-he..." It hurts so much...

"No, stop talking," he says. His eyes drift to where I'm holding my stomach together. "Let me see your injury."

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath before slowly letting go. I hear the Human gasp. I open my eyes. The Human is staring at my wound in shock. I wonder how bad it looks.

I can't stand it. "A-am I... gonna die...?" My voice is so weak...

"Yes..." the Human says. There's so much pain in his eyes when he says it.

I can feel tears forming. "I-I don't want to die!" Stupid, weak mandiblor, saying a thing like that...

The Human moves so he's over my head. He softly mutters, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

I look at his face. "I-I know you... You're Osiris... the prince from Al.. from Al Mipedim..." It's so hard to say those words.

He nods. I force my hand up to my chest. Even the dying must show respect to royalty. "I-I am Piabo..."

"Hello, Piabo," Prince Osiris says quietly.

I close my eyes. It's so hard to keep them open. "I-it was supposed to... to be my first assignment... spend a solan g-guarding the Doors..."

Osiris raises one of those eyebrows. "Your first assignment? How old are you?"

"T-twenty-six," I say. "T-today is the f-first day of my... my twenty-sixth solan..." The first day **and** the last...

"You're so young." He slowly shakes his head. "Why send you out so young?"

I have to laugh at that. "H-humans always ask that... I'm a m-mandiblor... F-from b-birth to death we serve..." To death... "B-but I don't wanna die..."

Osiris looks down. "Nobody ever does."

I-I'm too weak. I beg, "H-hold me..."

It hurts a little when he lifts me up and puts me on his lap. He puts my head in his arm, and I slowly reach up to grab his hand.

I unthinkingly ask, "D-do you wonder what it's like to die?" It's a stupid question, I shouldn't have- Wait... that look in Osiris's eyes... "...Did... Did **you** die once?"

Prince Osiris nods. He **nods**.

"Wh-what does dying feel like?" I ask. I'm about to find out, but...

I feel his squeeze my hand. "The pain goes away slowly. You can feel it, but it just doesn't matter anymore, it's just there the same way you feel the clothes on your body or your feet on the ground." He wipes tears from his eyes.

When he finishes, he continues, "Your mind becomes very clear for a while, everything in sharp focus, and then everything starts to go... soft. The edges start to blur together in your vision, sounds face, and soon you feel like you're floating."

His eyes seem as if they're looking far away now. "Thinking becomes hard, and eventually you just want to relax. You let go of everything, and the world just drifts away..."

"It sounds... very calm..." I gasp. I can feel tears streaming down my face.

There's pain in Osiris's face again. "Do... do you want me to help you die?"

"No... No... just let me go quietly..." I have to be strong...

Osiris is sobbing. I can see tears fall from his eyes.

And suddenly my mind is clear. I feel a terror in my heart. This is not a fear of death. I can feel my hand holding Osiris's tightly. "He's going to open the Doors." Phelphor, I know that's his goal, I just know it.

Osiris quietly says, "I'm going to stop him."

Phelphor has too much of a lead. Unless... "Mowercycle. Inside the wrecked shack. Saw it while collecting wood for the fire."

Osiris looks around, then pauses when he looks in the direction that I know the shack is in.

My hand feels numb. It falls to my chest. "Stop him..." I whisper.

"I will," Osiris says.

I can feel my weakness returning. I stare at the ceiling of the Underworld. "I don't wanna die... I don't wanna... I... I..."

I'm so numb... I can't feel anything touching my exoskeleton. The pain is fading...

Osiris looks furious, his face is wrinkled and his teeth are bared. "Phelphor will pay," he whispers.

I focus on his face. It's so hard to do that now... "Thank you... Osiris..." I whipser.

Osiris chokes up. "My real name, the one I was born with, is Michael." Tears run down his face again.

He told me his real name... I try to smile, but I can't... I feel my eyes close, and I force them open to look at Osiris- at **Michael**- one last time. "Well... then thank... thank you... Michael..." I whisper.

I don't even know if he can hear me. No, the look on his face tells me he did. I take the deepest breath I can manage, then whisper, "...Goodbye..."

My vision slowly fades... Michael's sobs eventually disappear... The ground has vanished... So has Michael's lap... No, I just can't feel them any more...

May your ancestors... guide you Michael... Prince of... Al Mipedim... May you... never... die again...

It's so hard to think... and really... it doesn't... matter... anymore... I just... need to... let go...

...Always... happy... to serve...

-[]-[]-[]-

The memory fades. I feel tears in my eyes. I look around. There are tears in **everyone's** eyes. Everyone but Phelphor. He looks about ready to go into shock as he stares at the green figure of Piabo's spirit.

Illexia's voice sounds strong, even through her tears. "Phelphor, I sentence you to death, to be carried out at midnight in the Grand Hall, for the murder of the mandiblor Piabo."

Illexia says more after that, but I don't hear it. Piabo's spirit is looking at me. I stare as it walks up to me.

Piabo opens his mouth and reaches inside with two fingers. He takes something out and holds to towards me. I hold out my left hand, and he drops it in.

It's a seven-palm coin.

Piabo's spirit smiles, then vanishes.

I clench my hand around the coin and sob.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Executioner**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	94. The Executioner

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Executioner**

-[]-[]-[]-

The grand hall of Mount Pillar. Most of the Danian hive could crowd into this place if they wanted to. With so many of the hive outside of Mount Pillar fighting the war, the ones left behind **do** all fit inside. And everyone wants to. They all want to see Phelphor die.

My heart is pounding, and breathing is difficult. My palms sweat, and my mouth is dry. The stress is getting to me. All the hate in the air. Hatred of Phelphor. Justified hatred, but still hatred. I feel like I'm choking on it, choking on the Danians' fury even while they praise me.

"Osiris," Sarah says, "do you accept this task?"

The task... In all honesty, I don't want to be anywhere near the grand hall when it happens. Still, what will happen if someone else accepts? Will this other creature have to strength to maintain civility? Or will he fall prey to fury and bloodlust? I don't know, and I don't want to allow the creation of a monster to fill the void Phelphor leaves behind.

"I accept," I say with a bow of my head.

...So... I've become Phelphor's executioner...

-[]-[]-[]-

The hall is packed... filled with thousands of furious faces... all of them itching for blood...

Phelphor is being march to the center, where a wooden thing waits... I almost want to call it an altar. I stand near the altar, waiting for Phelphor to be brought to me.

I expect the M'arrillian to struggle. I expect him to fight. He does neither. He hangs limply as the warriors on either side of him drag him along. His eyes stare downwards. His feet and knees drag along the ground.

I shift uncomfortably where I stand. Phelphor is being brought closer and closer. Insults are being thrown at him.

When do we turn into monsters? When we choose to do evil, yes. Still, when does righteous fury become wretched? I want to hate Phelphor. I don't want to become like him, though.

I'm confused, disoriented.

And now the warriors are tying Phelphor to the altar, lying on his back, facing up. It's my time now...

I tighten my grip on my greatsword. I'd... I'd forgotten I was holding it. The warriors step aside, and I step forward.

No fanfare. No speech. I just raise my sword above my head.

{you DiD THiS To Me DReaMeR...}

Phelphor is staring at me. I'm frozen where I stand. Everyone has frozen, in fact.

{you CReaTeD THiS WoRLD iN youR MiND aND GaVe iT FoRM. you PLaCeD CReaTuReS HeRe, CRaFTiNG THieR MiNDS, BoDieS, and SouLS.}

I don't want to listen. I won't be lectured. Not by Phelphor.

{aLL oF THeSe PeoPLe, aLL THeSe CReaTuReS, THey HaVe WHaT THey HaVe, THey aRe WHo THey aRe, BeCauSe **you** SaiD So.}

Stop it.

{The MiPeDiaNS STRuGGLe FoR WaTeR BeCauSe **youR** MiND SayS So. THe DaNiaNS ThiNK So MuCH aBouT SeX BeCauSe **youR** MiND SayS So. THe uNDeRWoRLDeRs aND oVeRWoRLDeRS HaTe eaCH oTHeR BeCauSe **youR** MiND SayS So.}

I order you to **stop**!

Phelphor's eyes harden. {**i'M a MoNSTeR BeCauSe **_**youR**_** MiND SayS So**!}

My arms swing down. My blade cleaves through Phelphor's neck and buries itself into the wood of the altar. The M'arrillians head rolls backwards, off the altar and onto the floor. Blood pours out from his neck, blood and blood and blood...

-[]-[]-[]-

"...Did I pass out?" I ask when I open my eyes.

"Not immediately," Theb-sarr says. "You turned around and walked out the hall like you were in some kind of trance first."

I sit up, then step out of the bed. "I'm returning to Al Mipedim immediately."

"What made this different, Osiris?" Theb-sarr asks. "You've killed twice before that I know of."

"Elco was an accident," I mutter. "The kha'rall, it was a matter of life or death. This... this was murder."

"Osiris," Theb-sarr says firmly, "do not let the Danians hear you say that."

"I won't," I say. "I'm not even saying it shouldn't have happened, because it **needed** to happen. I just..." I stare at my hands. "Theb-sarr, I **liked** it."

Theb-sarr's eye ridges raise, but he doesn't say anything.

I flex my fingers. "I felt him die, and I liked it... There was a thrill in my chest when his head rolled off the table, a joy in my gut as I watched him bleed... I-I wanted to lick the gore from the sword..."

I feel a pair of strong hands on top of my head. Theb-sarr quietly says, "Is that **you**? Do **you** enjoy slaughter?"

"No," I automatically say.

"Then close your eyes," says the Mipedian king.

I do so, and...

"Push it away," Theb-sarr orders. "Push Phelphor's influence from your mind."

...Of course... When he spoke to me... It's so clear now.

Destroying that false part of me is easy now that I know it's not mine. I crush it and allow it to disappear.

Theb-sarr embraces me. "You are not a monster."

Not a monster. A killer, yes, but not a monster.

-[]-[]-[]-

Many days have passed. The Danians are officially our allies.

I find my family. To Isis's surprise and delight, I hug her. I hold her tight and I kiss her. Then I let Hera hug me. Jupiter, well, he's still scared, but that will pass.

This is not the end of the war. However, it **is** the end of my torment.

I will not be afraid anymore.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Endgame Approaches**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	95. The Endgame Approaches

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Endgame Approaches**

-[]-[]-[]-

Months have passed. There's been a lull in the fighting. M'arrillian camps are being abandoned, leaving behind dazed and confused creatures, former minions abandoned by their chieftains. Spies report that the M'arrillians are fleeing into the Deepmines. Some think the M'arrillians have completely given up. Others believe they're recuperating. I think they're preparing something big, as do many other leaders.

This lull has done one good thing, though. I can finally take some time away from fighting.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Hera, let go!" Jupiter squirms in his sister's grip.

"No!" Hera drags her brother by the arm into my room. "You're going to be **nice** to Daddy!"

I set down the inventory reports I'd been working on, that Mudeenu had timidly brought me earlier today. "What's going on?"

Hera grabs Jupiter around the waist, lifts him up, and sits him on my lap. "Now behave!" she says sternly.

I look down at Jupiter. He looks up at me. I can see his outline shimmering.

"Hi, Jupiter," I say.

Jupiter mumbles," Hi..."

"Did you know that you're named after a god back on Earth?" I grin. "Jupiter was the Roman god of lightning and the heavens, the highest of all the Roman gods."

Jupiter's eyes go wide. "Really?"

I nod. "Jupiter is also the name of a world back where I'm from as well."

"A world?" Jupiter asks.

I put my hands together like I was holding a ball. "Earth is about the same size as Perim, but up in the sky, far away from Earth is another world." I mime a ball growing larger in my hands. "This world, called Jupiter, is very, **very** big!"

"Whoa..." Jupiter looks fascinated.

"And guess what?" I lean in close, as if about to tell an important secret. He turns the side of his head towards me, and I whisper. "There's no ground on that world. The entire world is made out of clouds."

"Clouds?" Jupiter whispers. "Then how do people stand on it?"

"People **don't** stand on it," I say. "There **are** no people there!"

Jupiter looks astonished. The shimmers across his form have vanished. "What other worlds are there?" he asks excitedly.

I adjust so he's on my right leg, and with my left arm I flip a paper over and start to draw on its back. "At the center of the worlds is the sun. It's even bigger than Jupiter! Then there's the tiny Mercury, then Venus, Earth, and Mars..."

-[]-[]-[]-

Every free moment I had this past week was spent telling Jupiter about Earth's universe. He simply didn't want the stories to stop. From buses to bicycles, printing presses to the Internet, the Pyramids to the Eiffel Tower. Plants and animals, countries, anything. He didn't find any of it boring, even things I myself found uninteresting.

Today, though, is the happiest day of this week. This morning, Jupiter said, "Can you tell me another story, Daddy?"

Daddy. He called me Daddy.

-[]-[]-[]-

...Peaceful moments don't last long. The bearer of the news that reminds me of this enters Al Mipedim running at close to the speed of sound, a small sandstorm flying in his wake.

Is it a coincidence that I happened to passing through the throne room when the creature burst in? Or did my dream guide me here, to be a witness to the beginning of the end?

The creature, a blue, slightly muscular, gazelle-like man, stops and falls to his hands and knees. I recognize him. Gespedan, an Overworld scout and messenger.

"Maxxor b-begs the aid of Mipedian-Danian Alliance," he gasps before his arms give out. As he tries to push himself back up, he says, "M-mysterious energies are surrounding Lake Blakeer, growing stronger by the day. We fear that th-they are the work of the M'arrillians."

-[]-[]-[]-

Isis and I are heading to Kiru city. Joalle will once again care for our children. Also going are Iflar, Theb-sarr, and Mudeenu. Mudeenu by my request, because even if he's serving time as my servant, I know that he can fight. Along with the royals comes the majority of the Mipedian military. The Danians are sending their own soldiers, as well as, unbidden, the Underworlders. Somehow, everyone can tell that the war is approaching its end.

I did tell Isis to stay behind, but she wouldn't have it. She won't fight, but she also won't let me leave her until the day I ride to battle. Making up for lost time, we've started calling it.

So we ride. We ride to Kiru City, where the greatest greatest military minds will gather. Where the various weapons of Perim will be perfected. And past Kiru City, the Lake Blakeer, the place we all feel in our hearts will be the end.

The end of who, though? ...I do not yet know.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Dryland Alliance, Finally Born**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	96. The Dryland Alliance, Finally Born

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Dryland Alliance, Finally Born**

-[]-[]-[]-

Days of travel, and how are we greeted? Closed gates and pointed weapons. Maxxor stands in the front of a squad of soldiers, a furious scowl on his face.

"I requested the help of the Mipedian-Danian Alliance," Maxxor says with a growl in his throat. "Why is **Chaor** with you?"

"And you **received** the Mipedian-Danian Alliance, plus one," Chaor retorts. "Unless the assistance doesn't please you, in which case we'll gladly leave and let the M'arrillians slaughter you."

"And what help could **Underworlders** possibly give?" Maxxor counters.

Chaor shrugs. "Let me think. Oh, the Mipedians and the Danians clearly appreciate the battlegear we've traded with them. Prince Osiris in particular enjoys nigh invulnerability."

"Please don't drag me into this," I mutter.

Maxxor bares his teeth. "The Overworld can win this war without help from filthy Under-"

"Just shut **up**!" a woman's voice calls out.

Everyone turns to the owner of the voice. Lilth stands up next to Chaor, rests her arms on the edge of the chariot, and says, "The fate of Perim could well be in question. You and my husband can have your penis-measuring contest some other time."

Chaor blinks. "How **dare** you-?!" He pauses, then grins. He sits down and says, "Actually, I want to see this."

"**Thank** you." Lilth turns back to Maxxor. "True, maybe you **can** repel the M'arrillians without our help. However, there will be casualties, and the longer you take, the more casualties that will pile up."

Maxxor glares at Lilth, but says nothing.

Lilth stands up to her full height. "We're offering to supply you weapons, armor, and soldiers. We're offering to help you win this fight quickly, with more lives spared. To not accept our assistance is to say that the lives of your people are worth less than your pride."

Maxxor's eyes widen, but it's the only change in his expression, and his scowl quickly returns. "And what does the Underworld want in return for their help?"

"Dear God," Lilth mutters as each pinches the bridge of her nose. "Maxxor, this is as much for us as it is for you! We're not **selling** assistance, we're **offering** it!"

Maxxor folds his arms and grits his teeth. For a moment I'm afraid he's about to make things more difficult. However, he eventually says, "..I'll... see what you can do, but I do not make any promises." Her turns and shouts, "Open the gates!"

-[]-[]-[]-

It's a shaky alliance at best, but at least everyone has agreed to work together. Now battlegear is being optimized, strategies are being planned, and armies are being formed.

We don't have much time. The energies surrounding Lake Blakeer are still strengthening. Still, there's only so much one person can do, as I've learned the hard way. I've worked myself to exhaustion, running around and trying to keep an eye on everything.

"Michael, today you're going to **rest**," Isis finally says the morning of the third day into preparations.

"I can't," I say as I get out of bed. "There's weapon tests and strategist meetings and-"

I feel a hand grab my shoulder and pull me back onto the bed. Isis presses me down. "You ran around Kiru City all day for two days. Your brain is going to pop if you keep trying to be a part of everything. The preparations won't stop if you take a day off." She plants a kiss on my lips. "Also, I'm feeling a little neglected."

I chuckle, "Later, if anyone asks why I wasn't helping out today, I'm pointing at **you**."

"Fair enough," Isis grins as she straddles my waist.

-[]-[]-[]-

People who romanticize making love just before a big battle obviously haven't been in such a situation. There's always the thought in the back of your mind saying, "This could be the last we'll ever see each other," and it all becomes stressful, and after the finish, nobody's really satisfied.

Isis pierces the uncomfortable silence. "Michael?"

I turn my head towards her. "Yes, Isis?"

Isis bites her lower lip. "If... if you die out there, what do you think will happen?"

"I don't know," I lie.

Isis reaches out and places her hand on my cheek. "Lately, each night, I've been having the same dream. I see you out there, fighting, and you end up dying. But then I see you standing up, looking exactly like you did the day you arrived in Perim. You reach out, open a door that wasn't there before, and step through."

I'm speechless. I place my hand on the back of hers.

Isis takes a breath and lets it out. "I think... I think I know what my dreams are telling me. I think that, if you die... you'll go back home, to Earth, as if you'd never left."

It's **scary** how close she is to the truth.

Isis blinks away tears. "If... if this is true...?"

I embrace Isis. "If it's true, I'll... I'll write down my life here. From the day I arrived to the day that I die."

Isis looks into my eyes. "For yourself? Or for everyone?"

I think for a while. "I'm not sure, not yet."

"Would anyone believe you?" she asks.

"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe a few."

"Those people who are here now would believe you," Isis grins.

It's best I don't mention that nobody else here is real. "Yeah, they probably would."

Isis giggles. "I wonder how you'll be treated by them back on Earth. Practically everyone here knows you."

I wrap my arms around Isis's chest and hug her tightly. "Let's stop talking about dying and focus on living, okay?"

Isis buries her face in my shoulder. "I'm sorry. It was bothering me, I had to say something."

"It's okay," I whisper as I pat her back. "It's okay."

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Marching Song**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	97. The Marching Song

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Marching Song**

-[]-[]-[]-

The march is a melting pot. Mipedians marching alongside Overworlders, alongside Danians, alongside Underworlders. The beginning had been rough, with the Overworld and the Underworld gathering into groups and being territorial. As the hours wore on, though, they stopped caring about who their neighbors were and focused more on their aching feet.

Left... left... left, right, left...

The Overworld really is beautiful. A pity we're in too much of a rush to really take in the sights. The forests glow bright and colorful, the grass on the plains ripple like water, and even the rugged ground makes patterns in the earth.

Left... left... left, right, left...

The step of our feet matches the beat of the drums. Just a little faster than a comfortable pace.

Left... left... left, right, left...

I'm not wearing my helmet yet. The heat of the sun would make it uncomfortable. It and the rest of my battlegear are nearby, ready for me at a moment's notice. Right now, though, I'm the face, the leader, of this battalion. A ways in front is a battalion led by Austin, and behind us is one led by Odu-Bathax.

Left... left... left, right, left...

The drums... the drums... something is missing from the drums...

Left... left... left, right, left...

Left... left... left, right, left...

My mind spins with the rhythm, and soon I have the words. My voice is soft at first.

"Off... to battle..."

The creatures closest to me look in my direction.

"On... to war..."

Several more turn to watch. I feel my voice grow stronger. I start again and firmly sing...

"Off to battle... On to war... Bones will rattle... Blood will pour..."

I take a breath.

"Marching onwards... Through the night... Pushing forwards... To the fight..."

Soldiers begin to emphasize the downbeats of my rhythm with the steps of their feet.

"Broke and rending... Bowed and curled... All defending... For our world..."

I'm at a loss for what to say next, but a Mipedian marching close by feels the urge to add his own lyrics.

"Early mornings... Cut through glades... Ice no warnings... Deadly blades..."

A Danian sings out next.

"Hammers batter... Fires born... Shells will shatter... muscle torn..."

Many creatures are singing now, as they turn my left few stanzas into a chorus.

"Broke and rending... Bowed and curled... All defending... For our world..."

The song now guides our march. The drums are just a background beat now.

_Off to battle... On to war... Bones will rattle... Blood will pour... Marching onwards... Through the night... Pushing forwards... To the fight... Broke and rending... Bowed and curled... All defending... For our world..._

Those creature wielding weapons that can be beaten on the ground start to do so, adding to the rhythm. Others beat a fist into an open palm.

_Early mornings, **boom boom**, Cut through glades, **boom boom**, Ice no warnings, **boom boom**, Deadly blades, **boom boom boom!** Hammers batter, **boom boom**, Fires born, **boom boom**, Shells will shatter, **boom boom**, muscle torn, **boom boom boom!** Broke and rending, **boom boom**, Bowed and curled, **boom boom**, All defending, **boom boom**, For our world, **boom boom boom!**_

We sing the rest of the day, always the same word, but with more and more added every repetition. Instruments are improvised, variations in melody are introduced.

-[]-[]-[]-

When camp is being set up, I spot a Mipedian muge writing down the score for the song. Symbols for the length and pitch of each note, and the words underneath. He hums as he writes, and I can see lights dancing around his hands.

I get back to overseeing the setting up of the camp. Late tomorrow we arrive at Lake Blakeer, if we wake early that morning.

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The End of the Calm, Rise of the Storm**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	98. The End of the Calm, Rise of the Storm

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The End of the Calm, Rise of the Storm**

-[]-[]-[]-

Lake Blakeer seems to defy natural laws. The ground leading up to it suddenly cuts off, turning into a steep cliff with constantly churning water hundreds of feet down. Above the lake are chunks of earth hanging in the air, some tiny rocks that could fit in a child's hand, and other enormous boulders large enough to stand on.

Clouds spiral overhead slowly, like the world's slowest hurricane. The sun is obscured, only shining through enough to light up the clouds. The sky brightens occasionally with bursts of lightning that crackle through the cloud cover.

The energies are obvious. Black spirals of lightning twist along Lake Blakeer's shores, but instead of crackling, they give off a sound like hushed voices. Violet sparks fly from the energies occasionally, zipping through the air before extinguishing. They look solid, almost like writhing tentacles.

"You!" I shout, pointing at a group of soldiers to my left. "Get a lightning rod up! Make sure you don't touch the metal!" I shout louder to include the rest of the battalion, "Keep your heads down and drop **anything** metal you have until the rod's up!"

My orders are passed along to everyone, and everyone stays low until the large lightning rod, a spike of metal with wooden insulation, has been set up. When I'm satisfied that the tower will keep natural lightning off of us, I order, "Okay! Everyone, gear up! Armor on at all times! Weapons within arm's reach! Be ready to fight at a moment's notice!"

My soldiers start to do as I say, and I retrieve my helm and gear from the wagon. I put the helmet on and secure it, then shout, "Gear team, set up caltrops in a circle around the black lightning! Mess wagon, get water to everyone! Scouts, get your water and rendezvous with Austin's and Chaor's battalions, see how they're doing and hook me up to communications!"

The gear team starts unloading monster-sized, eight-spiked hunks of metal, currently in collapsed forms, from their wagon and sets them in a circle around the closest of the black lightnings. The scouts split into two group and head in opposite directions around the lake.

...Well, I put my helmet on a bit too hastily there. This mouth opening isn't large enough for me to drink through.

A few minutes pass, and then I hear a voice coming from my belt. "Testing. Osiris, you copy?"

I take the crystal from the pouch on my belt and hold it to my mouth. "I copy, Austin. How's everything on your end?"

"I hear you," Austin answers. "We're all set up here. You?"

I look around. "Caltrops are almost finished."

"You think any of the M'arrillians are in the lake?" Austin asks.

"It should be like liquid lightning in there," I answer, "if it's anything like in the show."

I hear shuffling and muffled voices. Then Austin says, "Exactly like liquid lightning."

"Did you throw a rock in?" I ask.

"Try it," Austin says.

I do so. The surface of the lake crackles and warps as the rock falls, then bursts with psychedelic color when it hits. "Fun," I say.

"Is your a** ready to fight, Osiris?" another voice growls.

"Ready and waiting, Chaor," I answer.

"Then stop messing with the water and pay **attention** to your surroundings," he snaps.

I hold the crystal away from my face and sarcastically mutter, "Good morning, sunshine." Then I put the crystal to my mouth again. "Have the black lightnings done anything unusual since you got there?"

"One **just** tried to grab a soldier that got too close," Austin says, sounding sheepish and a little out of breath.

"...Was that soldier you?" I sigh.

"Maybe," Austin says.

"Hold that thought," I say quickly before holding the crystal away. "Stand away from the lightning! It can grab!"

My soldiers quickly back away.

I turn my attention back to the crystal. "Anything else to report?"

-[]-[]-[]-

Odu-Bathax's battalion arrives. Then Maxxor's, then Theb-sarr and Iflar's. Tangath Toborn, Lore, Intress, Takinom, Iparu. Other creatures that I don't know the names of.

The black lightnings are bright and loud now. They still sound like voices, but loud and shouting rather than whispering.

I'm one of the soldiers on watch right now, looking for any change in the energies. A bolt of lightning strikes the rod that had been set up, and some of the wood encasing it cracks a little.

"That just about stopped my heart," the Overworlder next to me mutters.

"Take a deep breath," I order.

"I'll be fine," he mutters.

"Kitty scared of lightning?" the Underworlder on my other side taunts.

The Overworlder bares his teeth. "I'm not a kitty, and I'm not scared. Filthy little a**."

The Underworlder grins and leans forward. "Cry for your mommy, little-"

I raise my hand between them, and the Underworlder pauses. "Stop, both of you, or I'll have you kiss each other in front of everyone."

They stare at me. "You... can't be serious," the Overworlder says.

"I'm perfectly serious," I say.

They both shut up.

A few minutes pass in silence. Then the base of the one of the black lightnings begins to glow orange.

I lift the crystal to my mouth. "I have orange light coming from the bottom of one."

"I was about to say the same thing," a voice says.

"Here too," says another. Many other voices say the same.

I stand up and shout, "We may have contact here, people! Get your butts in gear and prepare to fight!"

Thirty seconds of confusion, and suddenly everyone is ready for battle. I wield my cyclance and point it towards the energies. The orange light is crawling up the twisting structure, not steadily, but erratically.

The tension mounts. I hear a voice behind me shakily say, "Off to b-battle..."

Another whispers, "On to war..."

I hold my cyclance steady and sing, "Bones will rattle-"

The black lighting flares orange suddenly, and several dark shapes fly out and suddenly stop with the sounds of large cracks. The light dims slightly, and I can see several kha'rall impaled on the caltrops.

There's silence for a while. Then the lightning glows again, and-

_**BOOM!**_

Metal twists and shatters, and dark shapes are everywhere. I blast one as it approaches, then another. The soldiers around me fire as well, cyclances and pyroblasters, as well as powers they naturally possess.

More and more M'arrillians come out. Some fly, and my flying soldiers fight with them in the air. Others stay on the ground, and we meet them in battle there.

I can see fighting across the lake as well. Flashes of light and waves of creatures.

They're too close to me. I sling the cyclance back and draw my greatsword. The kha'rall in front of me roars and brings down a fist. It freezes in the air above me, and I slice through its torso with one blow.

Fluidmorpher, I see a black object rise from its hand. Oh no you're not casting mugic. I dart for the creature and take a swing, forcing it to dodge and lose its focus on the mugic it had been intending to use.

Someone cries out, and then the voice is suddenly quieted. My chest aches. One of my soldiers has perished.

Another kha'rall, its hands are crackling with energy. I chop one of its arms off, but the other arm lets the energy fly. My helmet forces the energy away from my body, but it got way too close for comfort.

Kha'rall standing with a sword raised and pointing it at a fallen Mipedian's face. I swing at the coral warrior's exposed stomach, and he bellows with pain and tries to grab his guts as they spill out. The Mipedian raises a weapon and blasts the M'arrillian's head off.

I feel something come to a sudden stop behind me. I turn to see a Danian with wide empty eyes trying to stab me. I hit the side of his head with the flat of my blade and knock him down. "Chieftains!" I bellow. "Flush them out!"

The moment I finish that order, I'm knocked to the ground. A huge kha'rall with dagger-like teeth has me pinned under him, and he opens his mouth and lowers his head, pushing through the field my helmet creates. I inhale deep and blow, and flames pour from my helmet's face into the kha'rall's throat. It roars and backs away, and a bolt of lightning fired by one of my soldiers shoot straight through its head.

I've dropped my greatsword, dang it. I draw a longsword and my parrying dagger and leap back into the fray.

-[]-[]-[]-

Slice, block, stab, pummel. It's almost like a dance. A dance where your partner's trying to kill you and has either the weapons or the powers to try it with, and you're trying to kill your partner first. Scratch that, it's nowhere near a dance.

I slit a fluidmorpher's throat with the point of my sword while burying my dagger into the side of another. Both creatures disappear in flashes of light, and my dagger tags along for the ride. Ugh, lost that one too. A stray shot destroyed my cyclance as well, earlier.

I draw my other sword, and cross them to catch the blade of a kha'rall. I don't know how much power this helmet has left, so actually blocking is prudent.

The kha'rall leans forward and roars. I pull a sword back, stab it in the throat and through its neck, and twist. The kha'rall's head falls backwards, and it collapses.

A large spike of ice stops inches from my shoulder and drops, and I flinch backwards.

Clash of weapons and mugic songs fill the air. A light hits me, and I feel my muscles burn with energy. I grip my weapons tightly in my hands and resume fighting.

-[]-[]-[]-

I still have two swords. One's not the same on I started the battle with. It's a big heavier than I'm used to, slowing me down a little. I just might have to ditch it. Yes, I should. I run it through a fluidmorpher let the creature fall backwards with it still in its chest. It topples off the edge and noisily hits the water far below.

I switch my remaining sword to my right hand and activate my aqua shield, then swing the shield into the face of a chieftain before stabbing it in the eye. The creature spasms and drops to the ground, and I see many of my fellow soldier stumble as if dizzy before turning around and fighting the M'arrillians again.

-[]-[]-[]-

We're... we're **winning**. We're **beating** the M'arrillian forces. I see kha'rall and fluidmorphers and chieftains lying dead on the ground, with many wounded of my own soldiers, but few casualties.

What's going on here? I know Lake Blakeer has detrimental effects on normal M'arrillians, but this much? And where's the only M'arrillian who actually benefits from being here? Aa'une hasn't shown up at all.

"They're retreating!" I shout. "Don't follow them, it could be an act!"

My soldiers obey, and the M'arrillians flee. We don't cheer, though. Something's not right at all.

Then we hear a scream.

My soldiers clutch their heads and crumble to the ground, crying out in pain. Across the lake I can see similar things happening to the others. My helmet doesn't protect me from this very long, and I find myself crumbling to the ground as well.

Black lightning shoots up from the center of the lake, forming into a ball high above it. The lightning ball twists and screams as it slowly turns orange. It glows bright and-

"Hello, Perim."

It's Aa'une, floating high above Lake Blakeer and slowly drifting down. He's wearing a black helmet with horns and a red crystal embedded in the forehead. Wait, that's **my** helmet! That's the helmet I'd been wearing when I was captured! The crystal is new, though. Besides the helmet, he's completely naked, his glowing manhood bared for all to see.

"I am Aa'une, Lord of the M'arrillians, future lord of all Perim," he taunts as he slowly turns around. "I'd ask you to bow, but I can see that you're already prostrating yourselves before me."

Aa'une laughs. "Can none of you stand at all? That's right, **that's** how much power I have over you now." He looks at his hands and mutters loudly, "I can feel it... I'm growing stronger... Ha... Ha ha ha!"

I try to push myself up, but my arms won't respond. I try to lift my head, and I can barely-

The something underneath Aa'une, far below. A dead M'arrillian, with a large... **thing** speared through its chest.

"The sacrifice worked!" Aa'une roars triumphantly. "Now I rise from my prison below!"

Aa'une spreads his arms- his **projection's** arms. That's not his real body. Yet...

Glowing violet spots appear on Aa'une's body, starting on the lower muscles of his chest and going down his stomach and sides. The top of his chest dots with red lights, and the tentacles of his lower body stretch out and bulk up. The helmet he wears warps and grows as his body becomes larger. His muscles bulge, and his hands crackle with energy.

Aa'une shouts loudly and arches his back. Waves of gray energy erupt from his body, rushing closer and closer-

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Last Free Mind on Perim**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	99. The Last Free Mind on Perim

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Last Free Mind on Perim**

-[]-[]-[]-

I can feel my heart pounding.

I open my eyes. The clouds above me are red.

A deep, malicious voice shouts, "My brother and sister M'arrillians! Perim is ours!"

I sit up and stare. Aa'une floats above Lake Blakeer, glowing red and violet. Around the lake are thousands of creatures, all with blank faces.

"Return to me, my tribe, and see what has been accomplished!" Aa'une spreads his arms. "Witness the former masters of this world, their minds' bent to my will!"

Brainwashed? **Everyone?**

Chieftains, fluidmorphers, kha'rall, they all approach. They look around in awe.

"Every one of our foes now answers to me," Aa'une sneers. "And not just here, but **everywhere**." Then he turns and faces me. "Everyone, that is, except for him."

I struggle to my feet as the M'arrillians turn to look at me. Some drop to the ground and bow.

Aa'une laughs. "Oh, he did not resist my powers, foolish creatures. No godlike powers there. I merely left him untouched. Mostly."

Where's my sword? There! I snatch it from the ground and straighten up.

{You seriously think you can fight me?} a voice in my head chuckles. {You may be the dreamer, but I am like a **god** now!}

I don't answer. How... how am I going to get to him?

Aa'une brushes his fingers against the helmet he wears. {Recognize it?}

Don't answer, don't answer...

Aa'une lifts the helmet off his head. {If you weren't so pivotal to the continuation of reality, I would crush you.} The helmet crumbles in his hand and starts to fall to the lake. {Just like that.}

Maybe I can find a cyclance or a pyroblaster.

Aa'une's face twists with rage. "Stop **ignoring** me!"

There's a pain in my gut. I look down. There's a spike of rock jutting out of my stomach.

"Do I have your attention now?" Aa'une laughs. He turns and speaks loudly, "You all have heard of Prince Osiris, correct? I've heard rumors that I fear him, even from my own tribe."

The M'arrillians murmur nervously. Aa'une turns back to me. "But I don't fear him," he grins and he lifts a hand towards me.

It feels like something has wrapped around my heart and is pulling up. My feet lift off the ground, and I slowly float forward.

"What do I have to fear from such a pathetic creature?" Aa'une crows. "Why should I fear when I can disarm him with just a thought?"

My sword explodes in my hand, and sharp metal embeds itself in my skin. My aqua shield detonates as well. It hurts... so much... My arms and my sides feel torn to shreds...

"Why should I worry," Aa'une snickers, "when his armor peels away with a wave of my hand?"

My helmet turns inside-out as it flies off my head, crumbling into a ball as it falls down towards the water.

Aa'une raises a hand, and I feel a large rock collide with my back. "No, my fellow M'arrillians. I do **not** fear this Human." He points at me, and-

"_**Gyah!**_" There's no way I can avoid screaming. Two sharp spikes of rock erupt from the stone behind me and pierce through my wrists. I feel the force lifting me release, and suddenly those same spikes are all that are keeping me from falling. I can feel my flesh tearing as gravity drags me down.

Aa'une turns away from me and spreads his arms. "Let's have this fool watch, yes? Go among his soldiers, those creatures that fought alongside him, and every tenth creature you pass... tear its heart out."

"No, **stop!**" I struggle to breathe. "Don't touch them!"

Aa'une turns to me and laughs before appearing directly in front of my face. "You're right. You shouldn't watch. You should be blind to it all, wondering who will live and who will die."

I hear distant cries of pain. People are dying, right now, and I can't do anything about it!

Aa'une leans close and whispers, "As for you, Michael, I have something special in mind. You won't die. **Ever**."

My heart seizes up.

Aa'une laughs at the expression on my face. "Yes, living forever, subject to my whims." He slowly drags a finger down my chest. "The world lives while you lives, and I'd rather my rule last longer than your natural lifespan."

"Don't... touch me..." I gasp. Breathing is excruciating now.

Aa'une presses his forehead to mine and hisses, "Of course, that means you'll never wake up. I wonder... after hundreds of thousands of solans here, what will you be like outside your dream? Would you like to see?"

-[]-[]-[]-

I'm floating in a white room. There's a mattress on a metal frame in the room, and a curtain surrounds the bed. A withered husk of a man lies in the bed, with bags of fluids hooked up to him, delivering their contents through tubes.

A machine near the bed beeps periodically. A screen draws out little lines, and a number on the screen counts up and down.

There's a clipboard hanging from the edge of the bed. On it is a single word. A name.

Michael.

I hear a voice. "Eighty years. All the signs of being brain-dead, except for the fact that he has constant brain activity. It's the longest coma on record."

Another voice speaks from above me. Aa'une's voice. {Oh, look over there. Is that you? You look like a piece of meat left out in the sun too long. Ha ha!}

The withered man's throat moves, as if attempting to swallow. Then a cough erupts from his lungs.

The voice outside says, "We've tried waking him up, of course. Nothing works, though. Unplugging him isn't an option as long as his brain continues to function-"

-[]-[]-[]-

"You're... wrong..." I wheeze.

Aa'une pulls away from me. He bares his teeth. "Wrong?"

"One way... or... another... I'll... wake up..."

Aa'une sneers, then taps my forehead. "So you'll survive the landing," he grins before grabbing my throat and pulling me forward.

I'm falling. Falling down to the large floating rock below us. I hit it, and it hurts so much. The world is spinning like a top around me.

Aa'une's voice bellows again. "Tonight we celebrate! No more do we live in the Deepmines! The world is ours to do with as we see fit!"

I raise my head and focus my eyes. Lying in front of me is a fluidmorpher. A light blue, almost bone-like weapon is sticking out of its chest. The baton of Aa'une, basically a sacrificial knife.

Aa'une is still speaking, but I'm not listening. I place my palms on the ground and try to push myself up.

Aa'une... Will... Not... Win!

The pain is gone. The **wounds** are gone. I can feel a raging energy inside my body.

This is my dream. This is my mind.

I stand up. It's easy. I grab the end of the baton with my left hand and yank it out.

This is my world. You are my creation.

I look up. Aa'une is still speaking to the M'arrillians.

And now I'll destroy you.

I don't jump. I simply let the ground move away from me. I soar upwards, and I come to a stop in front of Aa'une.

Aa'une reels back and gawks at me. "Wh-what is this?!"

I look at my right hand. Cracks in my skin reveal a white light inside it.

Aa'une snarls and points a hand at me. A rain of needles made of ice fly from his fingers, but they shatter against my body.

I speak, and it sounds like the entire world is speaking. "You? Rule Perim?"

Aa'une's eyes widen, and he floats backwards a little.

I raise my left hand and point the baton at Aa'une. "Maybe in **your** dreams, but not in **mine!**"

I dart forward and stab the leader of the M'arrillians in the top of the chest. Then I pull the baton down, tearing through muscle and cartilage. Aa'une's chest and stomach split open, and glowing translucent blood spills out.

A pair of violet lungs. Coiled blue intestines. And surprisingly, a transparent heart.

Aa'une bellows in shock and pain as he staggers backwards. I pull the baton out and let it fall, and then I reach inside his chest. I wrap my hands around his still-beating heart, and I yank.

Aa'une's body spasms. He slowly falls, facing the sky, an expression of shock etched on his face. He lands on the floating rock below us, and glowing blood starts to stain the rock's surface.

I hold up the heart as its beating slows, and I turn to the M'arrillians. "I am Osiris," I say. "I have slain Aa'une."

The M'arrillians look up at me in terror. Many are bowing.

I speak again. "Surrender, or share his fate."

I hear weapons start to clatter to the ground, and the M'arrilians turn and start to flee. Not even a minute passes, and they all vanish.

I drift slowly downwards. I'm completely spent. I feel dizzy, light-headed. That was the most I could do, the most I could break the rules of the world of my dream.

I land on the rock that Aa'une's dead body lays on. His **real** body, this time. I feel the world spin around me.

The people around the lake are starting to wake up from unconsciousness, while the world goes dark around me...

-[]-[]-[]-

**Up next: The Heavy Price of Victory**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


	100. The Heavy Price of Victory

**I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.**

-[]-[]-[]-

**The Heavy Price of Victory**

-[]-[]-[]-

"Osiris!"

The voice is so far away...

"Prince Osiris!"

I want to open my eyes...

"I think he can hear me! Osiris!"

Eyes... please... open...

"Osiris! Michael!"

There's the tiniest bit of light. My eyelids feel like lead.

Above me is a white-feathered creature in a green tunic. Frafdo.

"His eyes are open!" Frafdo calls out. "Hang in there, Osiris!"

Too heavy... My eyes close by themselves...

"Don't go to sleep!"

I open my eyes slowly. My vision is fuzzy, like a badly tuned television set. I can see the creature above me, but just barely. He flickers in and out of view.

"Look at me, Osiris!" Frafdo shouts. He stands up and waves his arms. "I need a muge!"

Another faraway voice... "Minor Flourish! Restore Prince Osiris!"

I can hear a song overhead, and a light blue light is descending towards me. _Dah, dah dee dah, dee, __**daaah**__ daaah..._

I am awake. I can feel my strength returning to me. I sit up and scramble to me feet, and Frafdo stumbles backwards and floats off the edge of the rock.

"Is everyone all right?" I ask. My heart's pounding.

"Not everyone," Frafdo mutters.

Now my heart's frozen. "How many?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"Several hundred," Frafdo cringes.

No... No, no, no. "Who?"

Frafdo opens his mouth, then closes it.

"Who?!" I shout.

Frafdo extends a hand to me. "I'll show you."

I grab his hand tightly, and he lifts into the air.

...There are so many people lying on the ground... chests ripped open, pools of blood surrounding them. So many people who won't be going home...

There's Iflar, though, thankfully alive. Mudeenu, too. They're kneeling over a body-

"_**NO!**_" I release Frafdo's hand and fall ten feet to the ground. I scramble over to where Iflar and Mudeenu are. They're sobbing. I sink to my knees as well. My heart withers a little in my chest.

Lying on the ground, armor torn open and a gaping hole in his chest, is King Theb-sarr.

"No," I say again. "No! You can't die!"

Theb-sarr's blank stare at the sky says otherwise, though.

"Father..." Iflar chokes out. "Father, I'm not ready yet... Please come back..."

Mudeenu lifts up Theb-sarr's left hand and presses his forehead against it. "I'm sorry..." he sobs. "I'm sorry for everything I've done..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mipedians approaching and bowing to the ground. Humans, too, from Al Mipedim.

The other tribes give us our space. I'm grateful for that. We need some time... some time alone...

Many minutes pass. Finally, I stand up and place my hand on Iflar's shoulder. "We need you right now," I whisper.

Iflar looks up at me. "I... I'm not ready..."

"Your father said you were," I say. "Stand up." I need to do this now, before I break down again.

Iflar slowly gets to his feet, and I kneel in front of him. Normally this would be done at the throne room, but I feel this can't wait. "All hail King Iflar," I say as firmly as I can. "Long live King Iflar."

"Long live King Iflar," says the crowd around us.

-[]-[]-[]-

So many funerals...

Theb-sarr has been mummified and buried in the royal family's crypt. Nobody was able to find his heart at Lake Blakeer, so a symbol of a heart was cast in gold and laid in his chest.

Aa'une's body was left to rot at Lake Blakeer. It will be ages before the stink goes away.

The palace of Al Mipedim is silent. Even Hera and Jupiter are quiet. Isis still cries herself to sleep every night.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Enre-hep?" I don't look up, just say his name. We're in another of his crafted realities, so it's not like there's anyone else I could be talking to anyway.

"Yes?" Iflar had promoted him to High Muge two days ago, but he still wears the rags he wore before.

I take a deep breath and let it out. "I... I want to try to bring Theb-sarr back."

Enre-hep presses his lips together. "From what you told me, you were **barely** able to kill Aa'une via lucid dreaming. Bringing someone back to life might be outside your abilities."

"I can do this," I insist, but even **I** can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

Enre-hep sighs. "What's brought this up, Michael? And why didn't you try when you discovered him dead in the first place?"

I hang my head. "He... he didn't deserve it..."

"And neither did the hundreds of others who shared his fate," Enre-hep says. "Will you try to bring them back too?"

I bury my face in my hands. "I don't know..."

"Don't try to play God," Enre-hep says, "no matter how close to being a god you might be in this world. Killing Aa'une was enough, just let the dream continue at its own pace now."

It's completely inappropriate, but I chuckle anyway. "As a part of the dream in question, you telling me this is basically me telling myself." My small grin fades. "It's just... what now?"

"You have a family here," Enre-hep says. "People who look up to you, who turn to you for guidance. You're a prince and a warrior, a leader and a father." He firmly holds my shoulder. "What I suggest is that you take care of those responsibilities."

He's right. I slowly stand up. "How many people saw me, by the way?"

"Saw you?" Enre-hep looks confused. "Killing Aa'une? Damn near everyone did. I'm certain only I know how you did it, though."

I cringe. "So..."

"So when you show your face outside Al Mipedim," Enre-hep grimaces, "expect a lot of attention directed towards you."

As uncomfortable as it sounds, I'll have to face it eventually. "Thank you for crafting this environment for us to speak in," I say as I look around at the illusion of my home on Earth. "I'm ready to face Perim again, though, so I guess we should leave now."

Enre-hep nods and closes his eyes-

-[]-[]-[]-

_**Act V: Warlord**_** is complete!**

_**Act VI: Prosperous**_** is coming!**

**Up next: The Unsteady Peace**

-[]-[]-[]-

**Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

**If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!**


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